


How Much Do You Love Me

by littlesassyloki



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, Forced Prostitution, Gang Rape, Gang Violence, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt No Comfort, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Prostitution, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Kissing, Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Underage Sex, this is not a happy story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23904265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesassyloki/pseuds/littlesassyloki
Summary: Loki is taken from his room in the middle of the night and taken captive by an underground gang. Loki is promised his freedom, but the gang leader has other ideas.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

_Clunk._

The sound of hard metal hitting the ground jolted him awake. He quickly opened his eyes only to be met with the emptiness of darkness; nothing but the two, full moons above warming his chambers with a soft, dull glow. A nightshade's call softly lamented in the silence, mixing with the rustling of leaves as the hot summer breeze pushed through them.

Loki lay in bed, the rich, silk covers draped around his still body as he listened for another noise. All he could hear was the sound of his own soft breathing and the steady beat of his heart. The prince turned to his side, casting his gaze out the open window and looked out at the illuminated city. From this far up, he could not hear the sound of the townspeople, nor could he see them, but the view was quite breathtaking. The lights emitting from the houses and street lamps created intricate patterns on the ground, twisting this way and that, creating an almost heavenly scene.

Loki sighed tiredly as he had nearly forgotten what awoke him in the first place. His body was tired and sore from the day's strenuous activities. Father had finally allowed him access into the weapons vault, explaining that Thor and he were of age now. Thor, being the thick headed brute he was, insisted Loki join him in weapons training immediately after their tour of the vault finished. Thor always was one for combat.

But the noise sounded again. A second _thud_ hit the ground. This time Loki rose from his bed, inspecting the door from where he sat. He blinked hazily, trying to adjust from the dim glow of the outside world to the pitch-black darkness of his room. The rhythmic beating of his heart furnished his sense of hearing once more. The young prince glanced down to the crack beneath his door, completely expecting to see the shadows of the two guards posted outside his bedroom, but there were no shadows. Only the thin sliver of light coming from the hallway peeked through the gap.

A thought crossed his mind of leaving the bed and making sure the guards were still there, but even before Loki had the chance to remove his luxurious fur blankets, a dark shadow of two feet walked in front of the door. The footsteps were soundless and Loki wouldn't have taken notice of them, if he had not, in fact, been looking directly at the door.

The dark shadow stopped at the center of the door, ceasing all movement, and once again, all he could hear were his own shaky breaths filling the room. Loki stared at the outlined shadow, not knowing what to expect. _Who was there? A maid? A servant? No, of course not. It was one of the guards. It had to be. Who else would be awake at this hour? Nearly the entire city was asleep._

The doorknob started to jiggle. The golden bulb twisted back and forth as the mysterious person on the other side obviously tried to get in. Loki instinctively was back on his side, his back to the door just as the anonymous man opened the wooden panel. The prince quickly shut his eyes.

The room fell silent; the only thing he could hear was the rapid thud of his heartbeat in his chest. The intruder seemed to pause before footsteps ever so softly started echoing throughout the spacious room. The footsteps came nearer, and Loki bit his tongue to keep himself from whimpering in fear. This was no guard. The guards do not enter your personal bedchambers without your order unless a threat appears - and there had been no prior threat.

He felt the gaze of the trespasser staring down at him as the footsteps stopped right beside the bed. Loki tried to keep his face cool, void of emotion. He had no concept of how long it had been before he felt a weight push down on his mattress. Either common sense or terror rushing in his brain told him to keep his eyes shut as he felt a calloused hand come to the side of his face.

The hand was warm and large, much like a worker in the fields would have, or so he presumed. He had never actually socialized with a worker before. But he had seen them before from the windows of the palace, working diligently in the fields. The prince often admired their vigor with such a tireless job, and he knew it was not easy. The men that worked in the fields were large, defined men, with meaty thick arms and a stare that could kill if you got on their bad side. His older brother, Thor, could have been a worker if he had not been born into the royal blood.

The strong hand stroked some of Loki's loose ebony hair behind his ear before it came down and caressed his jawline. This was when he opened his eyes. He twisted his head to look at the intruder, not expecting to suddenly have the man's rough hand cover his mouth and push him flat on the bed.

Loki shrieked in surprise, his hands coming up to hit at the large man on top of him. But his blows seemed to have little to no effect on his attacker as the hefty man brought a finger up to his dry lips, signing to be quiet. He didn't know why, but Loki listened to the man. He stopped his cries of fear, which were being muffled anyway, and he brought his hands back down to lie at his sides.

The man smiled at his compliance and removed the hand from Loki's mouth. This was the first time Loki actually had the chance to look at the man. From what he could tell from the darkened room, the man was big. Like _working in a coal mine_ big. The man was very muscly and tan, his eyes some dark shade, matching the color of the knotted hair atop his head. He was wearing simple clothing, something the average citizen might wear, which was unusual for someone to wear in the palace. Even the stable boys wore nicer garments than this man.

The man stared into the prince's eyes for a moment before he let out a breath of awe. "You're more beautiful in person."

At this Loki ruffled his eyebrows in confusion, baffled at what was happening - _is this truly real or just a wild dream?_ He wanted to speak, to tell this strange man to leave, to get out of his room, to get out of the palace, but nothing came. His usual witty mind and silver tongue failed. All he could do was lay beneath the man as he started to caress his face once more.

"You are perfect," the strange man started with a sigh. "So perfect."

Loki was really now becoming scared of this man. He wasn't sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him from his lack of sleep, but he could feel his body trembling beneath his attacker, scared of what will transpire next. And, much to his dismay, it only got worse.

The man leaned down until his coarse lips met the soft, fair skin of the prince and kissed it softly. The lips then moved right next to the trembling boy's ear and nibbled softly on the lobe. "They were right about you," he whispered as he let go of Loki's ear only to kiss his neck instead. "I'll just have to take you with me."

And that's when Loki heard the loud crack of his head being hit before he drowned into blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki woke to darkness - pitch black darkness. There was a harsh clacking sound accompanied with sudden jerky movements, forcing his body this way and that. He tried to open his eyes but found there was something wrapped around his head, ensuring to keep his eyes closed.

The next thing Loki noticed was the smell. An awful scent of body odor mixed with alcohol swirled in the air making him feel sick and nauseous with each breath. He shook his head, trying to rid his senses of the obnoxious aroma and took a moment to apprehend his current situation.

He was lying down on something cold and hard, probably metal. Some type of cloth was around his eyes, and he was bound at his hands, feet, and mouth. By the jerky movements and what he could only guess to be horse hooves, he was in a cart of sorts. _Alright, so far this didn't sound too good._

Loki blocked out everything and tried to concentrate. _What happened? Where was he? Why is he here?_ He thought back to the last thing he could remember. He remembered waking up in the night, but not why he awoke. He remembered feeling scared and alone. _No! None of this was helping!_

He concentrated even harder, pushing past the new throbbing coming from the back of his head. _A man- a man came into his room and- and what? Why was the man there? Why couldn't he remember the man's face?_

A sudden bump jerked Loki from his thoughts. He took a deep breath, calming his frantic heartbeat and attempted to sit up. Immediately he felt a hand on his chest, roughly pushing him back down. "Hey!" A heavily accented voice shouted above him. "The little one's up!"

Loki heard a scuffling of movement around him, the hand still holding him down. "How d'ya know?" Another man spoke with the same accent but in a much deeper voice.

"Cause he just tried to get up! I saw 'em with my own two eyes!" The first man responded. So far, Loki could only tell there were two people in the cart with him, both male. He recognized the first man, by his voice, as the one who had invaded his bedchambers in the middle of the previous night - _or was it still the same night? How long had he been out? Minutes? Hours? Days?_

"Take off that blindfold," the second man ordered, his voice filled with curiosity and Loki soon felt two hands come to the side of his face. He instinctively jerked away from the touch, his bound hands coming up in defense. The two hands were strong, though, and they managed to force Loki's arms down and pull off his blindfold in one swift movement.

The fabric around Loki's eyes was yanked away, and he felt a cold breeze wash over his face, sending chills down his spine. He opened his eyes to the now recognizable face of the man who had broken into his room. The man was smiling ridiculously, his face barely an inch above Loki's.

"Morning, pretty boy," he spoke, his rank breath spewing all over Loki's face making the prince recoil in disgust. Despite the man taking up most of his view, Loki identified that he, indeed, was in a carriage. The dirty cart was dark and without windows, still leaving him to guess if it was night or day.

"What da we do?" the second man spoke from behind Loki, still remaining out of the prince's view.

"I dunno," the other above Loki answered, never taking his eyes off the prince. "Nothing, I guess."

A silence followed, the only sound being the squeaking of the cart and the hooves of the horses. Out of nowhere, the man atop Loki suddenly smacked him across the cheek, earning a surprised squeak from the prince. The prince's hands instinctively reached to his cheek. If his mouth had not been bound, Loki surely would have cursed and shouted at these strangers to tell him what was happening!

Annoyingly, both men found this funny and began to chuckle at the prince's obvious uneasiness. "Don't worry, pretty boy," the second man spoke as the man on top of Loki began stroking the side of his face. "We ain't gonna kill ya." Somehow, that didn't make Loki feel any better.

The prince heard the unmistakable sound of a knife being unsheathed. Loki's eyes popped open and he began to squirm uncomfortably under the heavy man's weight. A thousand scenarios of what could happen raced through his mind - none of them ending well.

The second man stood and walked into the prince's view, a large, jagged knife in one hand. "But that don't mean we ain't gonna play with ya."

The caressing hand of the man on top of Loki suddenly gripped viciously onto his neck, fingers digging into his vulnerable throat. Loki attempted to scream and once again tried to bring up his hands to claw at his attacker, but his arms were pinned to his chest by the man's body.

The brute with the knife knelt down on one knee, the sharp blade coming uncomfortably close to Loki's face. The second man wore that same sick smile as the first, both of them looking like delusional maniacs. All air was cut off from Loki's lungs leading to a dark fuzziness beginning to take root at the edges of his vision. He knew if he did not get air soon, he would pass out and then who knows what would happen to him.

Just as the blackness was about to consume him, the first man let go of the hold around his neck. Loki desperately gasped for air the best he could through the dirty rag in his mouth, making the men laugh at him again. Tears had come to his eyes, but from what, Loki could not say. He was terrified and humiliated. _Why were these men laughing at him? What did they want from him? Where in all the nine realms was he? Did anyone even notice he was missing?_

Loki didn't have much time to think as the second man moved the knife to rest on his pointed cheekbone. The prince's heart nearly stopped in his chest as the knife was gently pulled up to the bottom of his left under-eye. The man began humming softly as he trailed the knife up and over Loki's forehead and down to his right cheek.

Loki nearly burst into tears as both men smiled down at him, watching him intently. He wanted to cry. He wanted to make this all go away. He wanted to be home with his family, his brother. He didn't want _this_. He didn't want to be surrounded by unfamiliar people in an unfamiliar place with a sharp knife gliding over his face, having the ability to cut into his skin at any moment.

And as if reading his thoughts, the cart suddenly jolted to a stop, causing the knife to slice down Loki's cheek. He shrieked out in pain as he felt his flesh tearing under the jagged blade.

"Shit!" the second man cursed, the knife immediately removed from the prince's face and tossed to the side.

"Uh oh," the first man said under his breath, his eyes going wide in realization. "Boss ain't gonna like that." The man rolled off of Loki, his eyes flicking to the second man.

"What we gonna do?" the second man helplessly shouted, his hands hovering over Loki, not sure of what action to take next.

"We?" the first man hissed back. "This is your fault! This ain't no we!"

The second man jumped to his feet, his hands tightly clenched in balls. If Loki had not been already scared, he sure would have been now. The second man held a look of pure hatred and a stare ready to kill. Just as he was about to open his mouth and shout out profanities, the door to the cart suddenly broke open.

Both men whipped their heads to look at the open door, their previous dispute entirely forgotten. Loki tried to lift his throbbing head to get a better look, but he could not see past the legs of the men.

"What's all the fuss about?" he heard a new angry voice shout. A third man, to which Loki guessed the voice belonged to, climbed into the carriage, his body built much larger than the other two men. He had a sizable scar stretching across his left eyebrow drawing attention away from his yellow, gapped teeth.

The two men who had previously been laughing at Loki were now quickly rambling explanations to the new man. The new man didn't seem to listen or pay much attention to their excuses as his eye locked on the shivering Loki. The man's mouth fell open as he crouched down to Loki's level. A beat of silence filled the cart, no one talking - not that Loki could anyway. The man reached a hand out towards the prince who, for the first time, actually had the ability to sit up and scuffle away.

Loki violently shook his head as he continued to crawl away from the men, a few unintentional whimpers escaping his throat. His back hit the wall of the cart and Loki had never felt more trapped. Three foreign men were gazing at him, and Loki doubted that they had good intentions.

The scarred man moved to where Loki was trembling, trapped against the wall and put an arm right next to the prince's head, ensuring Loki could not escape. The man stared down at Loki, taking in all his features. The man's faint smile soon turned into a prominent scowl. He roughly gripped onto Loki's chin, forcing the prince to look up. "What's this?" he growled angrily, turning Loki's head to the side. Loki winced at the stinging pain when the man trailed his calloused thumb over the bleeding cut on his cheek.

"It was an accident, sir," one of the other men answered. Loki could not see who. But frankly he didn't care. He was a little preoccupied. "We was only trying to scare him."

The man ruffled his eyebrows as he tilted Loki's face this way and that. The prince jerked his face away from him, which earned him a hard slap to the cheek, loud enough to echo throughout the small cart.

"You do _not_ pull away from me!" he seethed between clenched yellow teeth, scaring Loki enough to curl into himself, hiding his face from view. He heard the man in front of him stand and move away, but Loki did not lift his head from the safety of his arms. They weren't really there; nothing could hurt him if he couldn't see it.

"Bring him out," he heard the third man order and immediately after various footsteps rushed around. Loki closed his eyes, fear overwhelming him. He hoped that if he stayed still enough, if he could be quiet enough, he would disappear. He wouldn't be here. He would be back in the palace. Back where it is safe and this horrible experience was nothing but a nightmare. But his fantasy was nothing but that - a fantasy. Loki sensed hands grabbing him all over, pulling him up and away. He screeched and screamed, flailing and kicking, trying anything to get the hands to let go of him.

A fist was landed in his stomach causing him to gasp in pain. He was punched again, and again, and again, till he was nothing but a shuddering limp form in their grasp. The hands moved to hold him under his arms, pulling him forward, not caring his bare feet dragged on the floor.

Loki was carried out of the cart, into some sort of damp, cold room. The hands held him still as the third man approached him again. The man yanked on Loki's hair, forcing the prince to look up at him threw pain filled eyes.

"The Boss is gonna like you," he smirked, before letting go of Loki's hair and looking at the men holding him. "Put him in the cell."


	3. Chapter 3

Loki didn't know how long he had been there in that cell. _Waiting_ \- in the cold, damp dark. He had been dragged down empty hallways, reeking of all different repulsive smells, some of which he did not recognize and some he knew all too well. Blood. Vomit. Decaying flesh.

He was then led into a room. No lights. No windows. Nothing but pitch-black darkness. The men holding him tossed him onto the ground, snickering when he groaned in pain. They left him, locking the heavily bolted steel door behind them. And then he was _all alone_.

The prince didn't know what was worse. Being surrounded by strange, scary men with knives or sitting completely abandoned in darkness, left with nothing but his thoughts to keep sane.

He tried to keep track of time; counting the seconds, minutes. But the numbers started to bleed together, turning minutes into hours. Hours into days. Everything was _numb_. Something was off about this place, and the prince knew it. Time was moving, but not as fast as it seemed. Loki could have sworn he had been trapped in this place for weeks, perhaps even months. Yet, his logical brain knew that this wasn’t possible. There had not been a single meal, or even a container of water for him to drink from. Surely he would have died by now if as much time passed as his senses were trying to trick him into believing. Had he been drugged? Was this some type of psychological torture to break him?

His fingers glided up to his face, feeling the still raw cut on his cheek. The wound was barely beginning to scab. _So this is all a ruse. Time is passing much slower than it seems._

Loki’s head hurt, throbbing as he waited silently in the dark. The ringing in his ears would not stop and he began singing to himself just to fill the silence. Anything but the silence. He thought maybe if he could see, things would be better. Maybe he wouldn't feel so trapped. He climbed to his knees, spreading his hands out in front of him, searching the floor for something. Anything.

He crawled forward till he came to a wall. A spark of hope lit inside him, filling him with some sense of relief. A wall. There was a wall. That means he was, in fact, in a room, not just in empty space, wandering aimlessly until he died. He had nearly forgotten why he was here in the first place, his memories a fuzzy blur. But he could remember one thing. His name was Loki. _He was Loki_. He retracted into himself, his chin coming down to his knees as he curled up against the wall, the only thing he knew.

He hid his face in his knees, tears long dried out, as he silently sobbed to himself, " _I am Loki. I am Loki. I am Loki_ ." He repeated the phrase as if under a spell, his dry voice cracking under the strain. But even if he could not remember anything, he knew, with all his heart, _he_ was Loki.

OOOOO

A vociferous creak jolted Loki awake. But when did he fall asleep? Was he even asleep or was it his mind deceiving him again. Many times he had thought he died, any many times he awoke to realize he wasn't. Loki had never felt so disappointed and utterly heartbroken in all his life. 

Was death too much to ask? Did only the privileged deserve something as peaceful as death?

A dim light broke through the darkness making the prince recoil into the shadows. _Light_. He had nearly forgotten what such a thing was. He shielded his eyes, the dim light casting such a drastic change than what he was used to.

He heard something moving - moving towards him. Footsteps, right? Is that what they were called? The loud _tap, tap_ came closer and closer until Loki felt the presence of another staring down at him. Suddenly something was touching him, pulling him away from the wall. Loki violently screamed, his hands reaching out for anything that would save him.

He felt a blow come to the back of his head, momentarily stunning him long enough to be dragged out of the reclusive room and into the hallway. Loki tried to get away, but found his efforts useless as the hands of his captors restrained him with ease. _Damn his weak body._ Never good enough. Never strong enough. Always frail and pathetic.

Instead of trying to fight, Loki rather chose to intake as much of his surroundings as he could. _Be smart and get out of here._ If he didn't have strength to rely on, he always had his mind.

Loki looked around, taking mental note of everything. The tunnel he currently was in wasn't great in length; no more than ninety yards and the walls were short, seven feet at most. The hallway had no doors, no openings, just stones making up the structure. From the evidence of not a single window and the scent of moist dirt, Loki decoded that he was underground, most likely a ways from the city of Asgard. The city had pipes and sewers running beneath it, not creepy secret tunnels.

Torches were hung on both sides of the hallway every few feet, supplying the dingy place with its only source of light. There had to be an opening nearby that was feeding fresh air into the tunnel. _Good_ . That means there was a way to escape. Escape to _freedom_. But from what Loki could see, there was no such opening. Just the tunnel that suddenly stopped. The only room being the one he was just previously in.

As they were approaching the end of the tunnel the two men holding Loki stopped, one of them letting him go. The prince lazily turned his head to the side, watching as the man fumbled with a ring of keys, finally coming upon the one he was looking for - an unusual shaped rod of metal with random points sticking out of it. The man turned towards the wall and pushed the oddly shaped key into one of the many cracks in the wall.

The wall groaned as the man twisted the key, turning it completely around. It shook violently as loose pebbles and dust began to fall, clouding their vision. Loki coughed as he breathed in the polluted air, but the two men on either side of him seemed unfazed.

When the dust cleared, an open passageway was revealed. For the first couple feet it was dark, yet in what seemed to be in the center of the room, there was a large opening in the ceiling letting radiant beams of moonlight shine down. This room was obviously much larger than his previous cell, for the wines of the wall opening still echoed throughout the room. The ceiling was also much taller, depleting any hopes the prince had of climbing out.

Loki only had a moment to take it all in before he was dragged through the opening in the wall. The two men gripping onto his shoulders threw him roughly to the ground, making Loki land with a _thud_ , his hands futilely trying to catch himself. His palms scraped against the jagged rock, instantly producing a noticeable hiss from the prince.

The two men turned around and left between the 'door' they entered through, the wall closing itself back up. For a moment Loki felt fear bubble inside of him. The fear of being left alone. Not again. He could not just be thrown in another dark room all alone _again_ . _No, this was not happening._

Loki hastily climbed to his feet, ignoring the persistent stinging on his hands. He looked over the room, not being able to see anything except for the ground directly under the open ceiling. Subconsciously, Loki took a deep breath and relished the smell of fresh air, no matter how little there was. The hole in the ceiling was large - large enough for four men to walk through, but the ceiling was high enough to not fill the entire room with a much-needed breeze.

Loki looked up into the starry sky as he inched closer to the illuminated section on the ground, being careful not to make any sudden movement. He didn't know where he was. Someone could be here. Or something.

His eyes quickly, but thoroughly studied every shining star in the sky he could see, desperately scanning his mind to find matching constellations that would give him some sort of idea of where he was. _Yes!_ Loki actually felt a smile grace his lips as he saw three twinkling stars. To anyone else, they would have been nothing but that - three stars. But to him, they were like a prominent message in the sky.

The three stars created a single triangle in the sky, nothing special. Billions of stars could form triangles, but no. These stars were special. One of them shone with a green hue, the two others were larger than average, developing a more than normal site.

Many nights Loki had been confined to the palace grounds, forbidden to leave without supervision, for fear he would be attacked or surrounded with buzzing questions by the people. He was very well known in the kingdom after all. Being locked up had angered him greatly. Stupid parents - he could handle himself. But at this moment he felt the need to thank them. As a result of being confined to the palace, Loki had gazed upon the stars above the city every night, mentally mapping each and every one of them. And it's because of that, Loki now knew he was still in Asgard. _Thank the Norns!_

Those three stars. So little, so unnecessary to the universe were now the most important thing in Loki's life. They gave him hope. Hope to go back to his family. He swore, right then and there, that if he ever had the graces of seeing his family once more he would never try to sneak out the palace again. He would never lie or deceive them. He would be good, do everything he was told and be the perfect model of a prince. Just only if he could get home.

Home. The thought sent an unpleasant shiver throughout the prince's body. Oh how he wished none of this ever happened. He just wanted to be home. And that's where he was going to be. Loki shook his head, ridding his mind of all negative thoughts, and instead focusing on how to get out of the frightening place.

He looked around again hoping to find a door, a ladder, anything. But just as expected there was nothing. He could hardly see five feet into the darkness and that scared him even more. How big was this room? Was it even a room? Or did the darkness never end? No, stop - concentrate!

Loki turned his attention back to the gap in the ceiling above. He considered shouting for help. Maybe someone was outside and could hear his cries. He quickly decided against it as he felt the dryness of his throat and cracking of his lips. He was severely dehydrated. Yelling could do permanent damage to his voice - or even worse could attract the attention of an ill-intentioned person.

But right now, it was his only option. Loki swiped a dry tongue over his chapped lips before he croaked, "Hel-" Loki stopped immediately as he felt his voice crack under the strain. He swallowed the thick, sticky saliva in his throat and tried again, this time louder. "Help! Please!"

His voice echoed off the walls, sending eerie chills down his spine. He sounded so desperate. _So broken._ But that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was when he heard a dark, sadistic voice answer back, "No one will be able to hear you, love."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a good question asking how long it has been since Loki was taken from the palace till this point. The answer is only a few days. As explained in later chapters, there's special "stuff" that alters Loki's mind and can cause him to see things / experience time differently.

"No one will be able to hear you, love." 

The sickly sweet voice echoed off the walls, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Loki's heart skipped in his chest, his eyes snapping from the starry sky above to the darkness surrounding him. He hastily searched for the source of the voice.

"Who-" Loki squeaked out, his hands beginning to tremble. He repeatedly blinked his eyes, becoming frustrated when they weren't adjusting to the cold darkness. "Who is there?"

A moment of silence passed when nothing happened, causing Loki to question if he even heard anything in the first place.  _ Was he hearing things now? Things he was afraid were true? Ha! This was it! He had truly lost his mind. Making up voices in his head - that is the definition of crazy. _

But then the voice spoke again, crisp and chilling. "Someone who needs something," it whispered right behind him. Loki speedily spun around, expecting to see a man. But there was nothing there. Nothing but empty air. His eyes widely searched through the darkness, looking for any sign of life. Any sign he wasn't  _ alone _ .

"And you, my prince," the voice echoed, making it impossible to pinpoint where it was coming from. Loki slowly turned around, fear starting to overrun his logical thinking. He clenched his hands into fists, ready to fight. He vaguely remembered his brother telling him to never be unprepared for a fight. "Will help me achieve that."

"Show your face!" Loki yelled into the empty blackness, his own voice echoing off the walls back to him. In response, a deep chuckle radiated through the room, laughing at him, sending an unnerving shiver down his spine. Loki's entire body was trembling with fright as he tried to calculate all the possible endings to the current situation.

Seemingly out of nowhere a man appeared, stepping into the light. A tall man, big and broad. Loki's eyes locked on the stranger, his breath momentarily catching in his throat. The man had tangled brown curls on top of his head, falling just past his ears, contrasting against his pearl grey eyes. His face was square and tan, looking much like the intruder who had captured Loki in the first place. 

The man tisked, taking a few steps towards the prince, his eerie smile never faltering. "You're in no place to be making demands."

Loki's muscles tensed, leaving him frozen to where he stood as he watched the man gaze down at him. The stranger's smile grew, giving a sound of approval before he drew his hands behind his back and began circling around the prince.

"Yet, you chose to obey the command I had given," Loki dubiously confided behind his mask of calmness. Truly, he was  _ terrified _ ,  _ nervous _ , wishing for  _ anything _ but to be here with this man.

His opponent abruptly stopped his pace, fiercely grabbing the prince's chin and forcing him to look up. "You've got a smart mouth on you, boy," he seethed between a clenched jaw, his grip becoming tighter and tighter, almost making Loki cry out in pain.  _ Almost _ .

Loki scowled at the name, jerking his face out of the man's rough embrace. "I am no boy."

"Oh?" he laughed, pulling his hands behind his back once more. "Then what are you? A man?" The stranger's voice was dripping with sarcasm and mockery. Just the look of smugness on his face told Loki that this man was one step ahead of him, and it irritated Loki. No one _ever_ outsmarted Loki. He was known for his cunningness. But this man… This man knew what he was doing.

Loki's frown remained on his face as he confidently straightened his back, "I am a prince. The prince of Asgard." Loki wasn't sure if the man heard him at all, as the man seemed too preoccupied with the cut on the prince’s cheek. Loki had entirely forgotten the wound. 

But the other seemed very perplexed by it, never looking away as he let out a low growl. "Who did this?"

Loki furrowed his eyebrows, determined not to answer. He would give this man no satisfaction, even if it was something as simple as answering a question. The man suddenly grabbed him by his shoulder, harshly shaking him back and forth. "Who did this!" he shouted. Loki bit his tongue, willing himself to not lash out and strike the man.

The stranger voiced his frustration with a shout before pushing Loki away. He turned away from the prince, grumbling something under his breath that Loki could not hear. Suddenly, an idea seemed to dawn upon him as his eyes lit, the corners of his mouth turning up. He turned back to Loki. 

"You know, it doesn't matter," he said far too happily, a hand waving off to the side. "A couple scratches will go for a better show."

"Show?" Loki mumbled, his face twisting in confusion.

"Oh yes," the man laughed, his hands coming together in front of him. "You are the star!" 

Loki felt his stomach drop. He took a step back, as the man shouted orders into the darkness. Three others walked into the light, grabbing Loki and forcing him onto his knees. One of the men pulled out a knife, making sure to wave the blade tauntingly in front of Loki.

"Don’t say a word," the leader threatened, before turning away to face into the darkness. Loki quickly looked around, examining his situation. Three men were around him, two holding him down, and one standing behind him with a knife. The man who he was previously speaking with, whom he guessed to be the leader, was facing away from him. He couldn’t see past him or what he was looking at.

"Odin!" the leader cheered, holding his arms out in welcome. "How nice it is to talk with you." At the name of his father, Loki shouted out, jerking away from his captors.  _ Why would Father be here? But that doesn't matter. Father was here! And that means Father would free him! Let him come home! _

Rough hands painfully gripped him, pulling him back to his place at their feet. Loki stilled his struggle as the knife came around to press into his neck, ensuring to slice his throat at the slightest movement.

"My name is Kortt, Leader of Fugitives, King of the Shadows. And as you can see," Kortt continued, taking a half step to the side, a hand pointing back to Loki.

Loki felt his eyes go wide as he saw it. His father wasn't here, but in his place was a camera. He swallowed the lump in his throat when he noticed the little green light flashing on the side of the camera. It was recording.  _ This was the show. _ All hope of escape left Loki as soon as it had appeared. 

"We have your precious little prince."

Kortt walked over to Loki, choosing to stand next to the kneeling prince. Loki snarled up at the man, but could do nothing as the knife pressed harder into his neck. He could barely feel the blood beginning to drip down his neck as Kortt grabbed his hair and pulled hard. 

"Because of  _ you _ ," Kortt suddenly shouted into the camera, making Loki flinch. "Because of  _ your _ taxes, we have been forced to starve,  _ eating dirt like beasts! _ "

Loki closed his eyes, as he finally - after so long, knew what was going on. He had read books with things like this. This was a tradeoff. And he was the bargain. But the books always ended well. The hostages were freed and continued to live their lives, while the bad guys went to prison. He should be relieved. Father and Mother love him, and will do anything in their power to get him back safely.

But Loki couldn't get that whisper of doubt out of the back of his mind. The whisper that promised that his  _ Father didn’t love him - not the way he loved Thor. Father wouldn't free him. Why would he? There already was another, more suitable heir to the throne. He would be stuck here in this cave forever. _

The fingers in his hair pulled his head up harshly. Loki snapped his eyes open to see Kortt smiling down at him. Loki wanted to punch him - kick him - bite him. Anything to hurt this man who sent unpleasant shivers down his spine. But he couldn't. Not with that stupid blade against his throat.

Kortt's smile only widened as he saw Loki's frustration. "We have your son, Odin," he spoke, his hand never leaving the prince's hair. "And if you want him back it's gonna cost you. Ten million. Gold." 

Gold? That's what this was about? Money? A glint of faith flickered in Loki. Maybe he would go home if all this was solely for money. If the scenery had not been so tense, Loki would have felt the urge to laugh. Of course Father would give this man gold in exchange for his youngest son. Money was nothing - it was replaceable!

"So tell me,  _ how much do you love your son? _ " Kortt looked back down to Loki, that damned smile still plastered on his lips. With that, the little green light changed to red, signaling the end of the video.

"Money?" Loki immediately spat, ever so slightly moving away from the leader's caressing hand. "All this is for gold?"

Kortt laughed, his hand finally moving away from the boy’s raven locks. "Oh yes," he nodded as he turned away from the prince, his attention coming to the men holding Loki. "You know where to take him," Kortt dryly stated, but his face still held that color of amusement. "But first, give him a wash."

The men began to move at their leader's orders, pulling Loki to his feet. He growled at their roughness but could do nothing about it, settling to just sending glares at all of them. "I want him spotless." Kortt said with a wink, his voice dropping down low.

Loki immediately began struggling much harder against the hands holding him. "Let me go, you bastard!" he shouted at Kortt as he was led through the darkness to a door he had not known was there. "Let me go!"

Loki was dragged, kicking and screaming, through many hallways and doors until finally he was dropped onto cold stone marble. The three men laughed when Loki smacked his head against the stone, making him groan as his senses became muffled. One of the men stepped forward, kicking the prince's side, ordering, "Take off your clothes."


	5. Chapter 5

It was all a bit fuzzy from the hit he had taken to the back of his head, but he was thankful for that. That way he didn't have to concentrate as Kortt's men stripped him of his clothes, which once were of royal quality but were now nothing but beaten, dirt covered rags. Two of the men pulled him to his feet as the third stood by the door, knife still in hand.

Loki flinched as water began pouring down on his naked body. He had not seen how the water appeared nor did he care; he was too distracted by the contrast the icy water created against his skin, sending unpleasant tremors all throughout his body. The men continued to talk to him, their voices low and full of impure suggestions, as their large hands roughly washed his body with a scented perfume Loki had recognized to be very expensive.  _ Where did they get a perfume of great expense if what they needed was money? And more importantly, why would they waste such a precious thing on him? _

It seemed as if the men washing him had no grasp of personal space, for their hands roamed everywhere; down his chest, between his thighs, even going as far as to wash between the cheeks of his backside. They made crude jokes and statements, commenting on Loki's private parts and making bets on how he would perform in bed. One of the men even grabbed Loki's member and tried to get an arousal out of him, but had no success. The cold water and fear kept Loki from feeling any pleasure from the men. And during the whole of this, all Loki could do was whimper and silently beg the men to finish.

And it seemed like an  _ eternity _ until the two men did. The water was turned off and a large cloth was draped around him, rubbing at the water that remained on his skin. The prince's entire body trembled from both the cold water and fear as the men finished drying him. They tossed the towel out of the way and pushed him out of the room.

Loki was led into a much more spacious room, the size close to that of his bedroom back in the palace. He only had a moment to take in his surroundings, a square room with a large bed big enough for three grown men, a few side tables and chairs, and a fireplace, before he was forced away into what he guessed was some sort of closet.

Hundreds of finely made clothes all hung up neatly on straight racks lined the walls, giving off a very regal feeling. Confusion began to bubble in the back of Loki's mind as he was told to stand still in the center of the closet. From everything he had seen so far, Kortt didn't need money. He had expensive perfumes, a lavish bedchamber, and strikingly well made clothing. However, just a few hours before Loki had been in a dungeon with rocks and dirt and bugs.  _ Was all that fake? Were those just props for Kortt's show? _

Loki was handed a pile of clothing, ordered to dress himself. He stared at the clothes in his hands for a moment, debating whether to put on the garbs or remain naked. The clothes consisted of dark leather pants, a black mesh long sleeve shirt, and two black cuffs. "What are these?" Loki asked, holding up to two cuffs for the men to see.

The man with the knife smiled, his two companions laughing with him. “Get dressed,” he growled.

Loki swallowed nervously as he hesitantly, but quickly began dressing himself. He started with the pants, stepping into each leg whole and, with much difficulty, started to slide them up his legs. 

"Wait!" One of the men barked, causing Loki to stop his actions and glance up at him questioningly. "Do it slower," he commanded, a sick twist to his words. A knowing ache turned in Loki's stomach.

The prince complied, attempting to make his movements relax as he continued to pull the leather up to his waist. There was no button or zipper to hold the pants in place, but there was no need for one. Just as he presumed, the pants were like a second layer of skin - hugging every curve and corner of his legs.

Loki bent down to pick up the mesh shirt, earning a wolf whistle from one of the men and a shout of approval from another. He closed his eyes in embarrassment -  _ shame _ as he pulled the shirt over his head. Picking up the cuffs, Loki turned around to face the men. "I do not know the purpose of these," he softly stated, his eyes falling to the soft-carpeted floor.

The man with the knife handed the blade to one of his companions, stepping forward until his body was but an inch away from the prince. Loki was a good four inches smaller than the man, giving the man a much more intimidating appearance. 

"You don't need to know," he smirked as he snatched one of Loki's small wrists in his hand and secured the metal cuff around the prince's flesh. He did the same with the other wrist before he snaked a hand around Loki's waist, pulling their bodies together.

The prince let out an unexpected squeal of surprise as the man, never breaking eye contact, began roaming his hands over Loki's backside, firmly squeezing and pinching. Loki immediately began struggling, trying to twist out of the man's firm grip and to get those groping hands off him.

"Uh, Einar," one of the others weakly called out, making the man fondling Loki momentarily stop. "I don't think the Boss is gonna like that." Einar scowled his response, before removing his hands from Loki's waist and trailing them up to rest on the boy’s shoulders instead.

"You ain't gonna tell him are ya?" Einar sweetly smiled down at Loki. Loki ceased his struggling, but he didn't hide the angry frown taking over his face. He didn't answer, spitting in Einar's face. The man shouted in anger and roughly pushed the prince away. Loki barely managed to catch his balance before he hit the ground.

Einar wiped the saliva off his face before he angrily stomped out of the closet, grumbling something to the other men before he left. The other two men roughly grabbed Loki, pulling him back out into the large bedroom. They pushed him onto the bed before they turned and excited, leaving Loki all alone.

The prince sat on the large bed for a moment, comprehending everything that had just happened and catching his breath. He looked around the room, this time taking in more detail. There was a good-sized bowl on one of the side tables and a folded cloth beside it. A few decorations filled the room, mostly consisting of intricately designed vases, leather bound books, and scented wax candles. But one thing in the room caught Loki's eye. 

A painting of an older man hung above the mantle of the fireplace. The man seemed to be of high importance, for he was wearing many badges and medallions pinned to his overcoat. Loki felt himself move off the bed, his bare feet coming in contact with the floor as he stepped towards the portrait.

He didn't know why, but Loki felt as if he  _ recognized _ this man. He walked closer to the painting until he was standing directly in front of it, speedily shifting through his memories in hope of finding some answer as to who this man was.

"That's my father," a sudden voice came, making Loki jump in his skin. The boy rapidly spun around, adrenaline causing his heart to beat wildly. Kortt stood in the doorway, his eyes looking at the painting above the prince. 

"He was a good man," Kortt stated sadly as he moved into the room, closing the door and hearing it  _ click  _ behind him. Kortt momentarily eyes the prince before stating, "Those clothes look good on you."

Loki didn't respond. He watched his captor move across the room, taking off his metal chest plate and a few hidden daggers the prince had not known were there, and laying them on a table. Loki found himself at an inability to speak, his tongue going dry. He stood frozen to his spot as he continued to watch Kortt.

"You know," the man began, grabbing a pitcher and pouring golden liquid into two crystal glasses. "I think it was incredibly terrible of your father to keep you locked up in that palace." He grabbed the drinks and began walking over Loki, a smile playing at his lips. "Beautiful things are meant to be shared, not kept hidden." He stopped in front of Loki, his hand offering the cup to the prince. "Here, drink."

Loki eyed the glass cup cautiously, before hesitantly reaching out with his cuffed hands and grabbing the offering. "What is it?" he asked, as he sniffed the sour bitter aroma of the drink.

"It's good. I promise." 

Promise or not, Loki didn't trust this man. Kortt could try to poison him - or drug him. And Loki didn't know which would be worse. He looked up to Kortt, a small scowl of disinterest on his face. "I am not of age to be drinking," he defiantly said, holding out the cup for Kortt to take. But he didn't take it. The man only scowled back, his grip tightening on his cup.

A painfully forced smile cracked on the man’s lips. "Ah, but I am just showing good hospitality to my guest." His eyes emanated anger, matching the malicious warning in his voice. Kortt took a step closer to the prince, his hand threateningly coming up to rest around the back of Loki's neck. "Drink it."

Kortt's indication was clear, and Loki found himself at a standpoint.  _ Should he drink the liquid? Who knows what could be in it - but on the other hand, who knows what would happen if he didn’t. _

The prince eyed the drink wearily before he slowly began lifting the cup to his lips. He could feel the taller man's intense gaze on him as he tipped the cup up, allowing some of the liquid into his mouth. The drink immediately began to burn on his tongue but the boy forced himself to swallow, the fire going all the way down his throat. With watery eyes, he looked back up to Kortt hoping to have satisfied the man.

"All of it," was all Kortt said, his tone deadly serious. Loki mournfully lifted the cup again; downing the rest of his drink in one gulp, knowing full well the burning would only intensify. "There," Kortt hummed as he quickly drank his cup, his hand pulling away from Loki's neck and coming down to pat on his shoulder. "Was that so bad?"

Loki glared up at the taller man, his disapproval quite obvious. "What was in it?" he seethed out, a nervous feeling taking root in his stomach. He could have just swallowed poison, leading to his absolute death.  _ But why would Kortt kill him? He needed him as a hostage, right? For money? You can't have a dead hostage. _

Kortt chuckled softly as he snatched the glass from Loki's hands, turning away and walking back over to the table. "Nothing that will do you any harm, I can assure you."

Loki furrowed his eyebrows at the answer before he gulped tensely. All too soon he realized what was happening. He felt the hot sensation of blood rushing through his body and the sudden dizziness clouding his thoughts. 

"What did you-" Loki gasped out as his head began to spin. His entire body throbbed with pain - or was it pleasure? The prince couldn’t tell. His cheeks began to flush red as his willpower became more and more dazed.

"Shh-" Kortt hushed, as he quickly made his way over to Loki, his hands picking up the disoriented prince before he could fall and hurt himself. Loki sharply inhaled as the two hands touched him. Kortt carried the prince to the bed and carefully laid him down. He gathered Loki's metal-cuffed wrists and pulled them above the prince's head, clasping them the metal chains attached to the headboard before whispering into the prince's ear, "Just try to  _ relax _ .”


	6. Chapter 6

Loki was settled down on the bed, his hands bound above his head before he fully realized what was happening. It was quite obvious now that his superstitions were correct and he had, in fact, been drugged. His head was spinning and an odd, warm feeling bubbled beneath his skin; a longing, an  _ ache _ . Kortt climbed on top of the boy, whispering something in his ear - Loki couldn’t make out what - before he began planting soft little kisses all along the prince's neck.

"Everything was fake," Loki blurted out, trying frantically to ignore whatever the man was doing to his body. "The dungeon, the cave, everything." He suddenly gasped as teeth sunk into his neck, little dots of blood blooming dark red on his skin. "It was all fake." A kiss was allotted on top of the prince's new wound, an inadvertent shiver racing through his veins.

"Mm-" Kortt sounded, his enticing voice laced with insulting amusement. "Smart and beautiful." The man lifted his head to look Loki in the eyes, a small smile playing at his lips. "What else have you noticed?"

"You acquire no need for gold." The prince stared back at the man. He could barely concentrate on what the other was saying. The blood rushing through his head was loud and making him feel disoriented. Loki swallowed hard and continued, hoping that his talking would distract the man from whatever events he had planned. "You possess fine perfumes and cloth of high quality."

Kortt bit his lip as he purred his approval, his eyes predatorily studying the prince's face. "Then what do you think I need?" he asked, his head dipping down to the prince's neck once more. Loki shook at the sensation it brought him, a dangerous feeling of pleasure mixed with pure hatred. A hot tongue came in contact with the soft skin just below the prince's jawline, teasingly outlining an excitable dance. Loki tried to move away, his movements jolting to a stop when he felt the sensation between his own legs begin to tingle.

"I-" Loki stumbled as those damned lips found their way to a very sensitive spot behind his ear, teeth combing over the flesh. "I think you wish for attention. Prove that you are better than my father by kidnapping his son."

Kortt hummed in disappointment as he pulled away from the prince. "Aw, you were doing so well. But there you are wrong, my prince." Kortt's hands slithered up Loki's prominent hips to cup around the boy's face. "I don't want attention," he thrummed, his mouth coming down to hover just above the prince's lips before he growled, "I want you."

Kortt closed the gap between them. Loki immediately sealed his lips together, denying the kiss altogether. The other man's tongue slid against his bottom lip before quickly biting the pink flesh, and the prince couldn't help but gasp. Kortt's tongue instantly moved into the boy's mouth, hungrily exploring every corner and crevice. Loki wanted to bite down - but he couldn't. The prince would never admit it, but his body was reacting to and getting a sick pleasure from all of this. Every kiss, every bite send shockwaves through his body.

Loki attempted to deny his natural reactions. It must have been the drugs in his drink - causing him to be so weak, so sensitive. He didn't want to feel this way, not towards Kortt. Not towards any man, for that matter. But he couldn't help but it. He could feel  _ everything _ . He felt Kortt's large hands fondling his leather clad cheeks and the tongue dancing inside his mouth.

"Stop," Loki choked out the moment Kortt pulled away from the kiss. He didn't want this. Not mentally. Nothing in the worlds mattered, for all Loki could wrap his mind around were the curious hands manipulatively groping his body and the tongue now expertly tracing patterns into his skin, leaving a burning trail of fire wherever it went.

The man on top of him didn't listen to his wistful plea. Kortt roughly kissed the prince, dragging his fingernails up Loki's arm and over his shoulder, his fingers intentionally brushing against the boy's hardening nipple. This action drew a honeyed moan from the prince, the throbbing between his legs intensifying.

With realization kicking in Loki immediately attempted to jerk away, a deep blush settling on his cheeks.  _ This could not be happening. Not to him.  _ He began kicking viciously, but with his wrists encased in chains and Kortt on top of him, the prince was trapped. The prince whimpered as he watched Kortt remove his shirt, revealing a scarred, tan abdomen.

"You- you said-" Loki choked, his body trembling with an intoxicating mixture of fear and desire as Kortt tauntingly kissed the prince's jawline and down his neck. "That if- if my father-" The man moved down to Loki's chest, his teeth excitedly biting the hard pink nipple through the mesh fabric, sending stimulating tremors to the boy's groin. "Gave you money-" Loki weakly attempted to kick away his offender without success, his breathing beginning to come in hot short pants. "That you would not-" Kortt was now kissing the prince's stomach as his hands played with the rim of Loki's shirt. "Hurt me," Loki finally finished, his fingers desperately gripping at the metal cuffs digging into his skin. He turned his head to the side, tightly closing his eyes as waves pleasure rolled through his body.

Kortt grabbed Loki's shirt and tore it open exposing the flawless, alabaster skin. Just the sight of the young boy beneath him, squirming, panting, and pleading was enough to get an arousal out of him. "But there is no money here yet," the man smiled as he moved his head further south, biting down on the leather bulge between the prince's thighs and raking his teeth over the sensitive area. Loki jerked his body forward and threw his head back, a sickly sweet moan escaping his lips. "So I can do  _ whatever _ I want with you."

Two large hands came up to play with the prince's hardened nipples as Kortt began to rock his hips against Loki's, both their clothed erections brushing together. 

"Pl- Please- stop thi- this," Loki pleaded, his voice coming out no more than a pathetic whimper, as Kortt started to remove the only piece of clothing the prince had left on. "I do not wish f- for this."

Kortt pulled the leather pants down Loki's hips, over his thighs, and off his legs, relishing how the prince hopelessly squirmed in protest. "You say you do not want this," he tested, hungrily eying Loki's newly exposed erection. "But your body says otherwise." The man smiled as he lightly touched the boy's arousal, causing the prince to buck up into his hand. Loki whined a needful whimper as hot breath fell on his throbbing member, a kiss coming to the head of his shaft.

Kortt then took that moment to slip all of Loki into his mouth, his tongue sliding along the underside of the prince's hardness. Loki's breath immediately hitched in his throat, his entire world stopping as he experienced teeth gently bite at his base and drag all the way up to his tip, where lips began hungrily sucking. 

"Stop!" Loki cried, as Kortt expertly moved his mouth up and down Loki's shaft, his tongue dancing along with the movements. Never before had anything like this been done to the prince, leaving him inexperienced and sensitive. Loki violently shook his head, his body shivering with pleasure and burning shame. He knew Kortt was trying to humiliate him. Loki bit his tongue knowing the celestial sounds he was making was only encouraging the man on top of him.

"Please," Loki trembled, his toes curling and his back arching off the bed. Kortt took the next moan that left the prince as a sign and Loki was enjoying himself. Kortt moved his lips to the head of Loki's member and sucked roughly, running his tongue over the slit. Loki tried to contain his whimpering, biting down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood.  _ He didn't want this. But everything felt so good _ .

Kortt pulled his mouth away from Loki, able to tell the boy was holding back. "What's wrong, my prince?" he mocked as he slowly crawled up towards Loki's shimmering face. "Do you not want to finish what I’ve started?"

Loki blushed madly, his head angrily shooting up to look Kortt in the eye. "I would never do such a thing for someone like you!" he spat, his member throbbing more than ever from the lack of the much-wanted attention.

"Oh?" Kortt challenged, his voice low and husky. "Then I won't touch it." The man evilly smiled, a glint of something flashing across his eye. "I won't give you the pleasure you so desire." Kortt moved his mouth next to Loki's ear, gently sinking his teeth into the silky skin. "And I'll make you beg for me to let you release."

Loki shuddered at the words, his body aching with want. He was sure whatever he had been drugged with was making him feel this way -  _ surely that was the only explanation _ . And it was quite obvious Kortt was enjoying himself too. A large, swollen bulge was evident in his pants, making Loki gulp nervously. 

The sight of Kortt's dropping his own garments reminded Loki just how real this was. The man wasted no time in stripping himself of his clothes and grabbing Loki's thighs. The prince attempted again to resist the man, his legs fighting to stay closed, but the man pried open his thighs with ease - his entirety now on open display for Kortt to see. "Mm," Kortt breathed, a smile gracing his lips as he gazed down at all of Loki.

And without a moment's hesitation, the man's head bobbed down and a hot tongue flicked against Loki's pink entrance, earning a mix between a cry of surprise and a moan of pleasure. He knew Kortt was teasing him just enough to put him on the edge, but not enough to push him over. The man climbed between the prince's thighs.

Kortt used a moment to look down at the panting boy beneath him, covered in sweat and trembling violently. Loki watched with scared eyes.

“Wait-!” 

The man thrusted inside Loki producing an ear piercing scream. Kortt’s movements faltered. The way the prince's body squeezed around him could have had him finishing right there and then. But he held back, wanting to relish in the feeling,  _ the begging, the helpless struggling _ .

Loki forced his eyes closed, tears already flowing down his cheeks. Kortt pushed deeper and deeper inside him. He was large -  _ very large _ . And Loki could feel his muscles ripping at the intrusion, blood soaking the sheets beneath them. The prince cursed as Kortt finally stopped moving, his member fully seated inside him. Loki felt as if all air had escaped his lungs. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, and could hardly breathe. The throbbing of the man's cock pulsed inside him, making him want to vomit.

Kortt didn't even give the boy a moment before he pulled back out, his large member pulling Loki's body with him. Two hands came to the prince's hips, forcing him down on the bed as Kortt continued to pull out. The boy screeched in agony as overwhelming aches of pain filled him. Loki couldn't hold back his cries anymore and steady streams of tears began to pour down the sides of his face, channeling to the sheets beneath him.

Kortt pulled the entire way out until just the tip of his member was left inside before he roughly pushed back in, slamming Loki against the headboard. The prince screamed in pain as Kortt repeated the process several times, each thrust coming easier and faster with Loki's own blood as lubrication.

Kortt roughly grabbed the boy's legs and pulled them higher, giving him a better angle to penetrate the prince. Loki sobbed his protest as Kortt hit deeper and new tissue was being abused. The man growled, his nails biting into soft, pale skin, leaving little red cuts littered along the prince's thighs. Kortt was being rough, and why wouldn't he? They were not lovers. Loki was a hostage to him, an object. He had no reason to be gentle.

Loki moaned - it all was so painful, but deep down he felt a twinge of pleasure. Prince Loki, second son of Odin would never allow himself to be so defiled as to get any pleasure from this. But every now and then, a feeling of pleasure would roll through his body instead of pain. And a moan would escape his lips instead of a cry.

"Yes, moan for me," Kortt grunted, his dirty breaths filling the boy's ear.

Loki clenched his teeth in both pain and pleasure to keep the sounds he was making inside. But Kortt’s bites and scratching fingernails, the grunts of power and caressing hands, the steady thrusting going deep inside of Loki was becoming too much for the prince to handle. His own erection was becoming painful, causing everything else to feel much more pleasant. Kortt accelerated his rough movements, his groans becoming louder. 

"Beg!" he ordered. Loki weakly shook his head, ignoring the now unbearable throbbing of his member as it bounced between them. He would  _ never _ stoop to something so low as begging. Kortt's hand suddenly came down and gripped Loki's neglected manhood. The man firmly squeezed around the boy’s member, instantly causing Loki to moan and his hips to grind up into the Kortt’s hands. "Beg!"

"Please! Ah- Please!" Loki cried, the feeling in his body overriding all other thoughts in his head. The tight grip around his manhood had him seeing white as waves of pleasure filled him. He couldn't take it any longer. 

Kortt smiled corruptly before burying himself deeper inside the prince. He released Loki's member and gripped onto the boy's hips as he finished with a shout, shooting his hot seed up into Loki, directly hitting that sweet spot the prince didn't know he had. The steamy seed pulsing through his body, brushing against that bundle of nerves was all it took to send Loki over the edge.

Loki finished hard, bucking his hips up into Kortt's member as he did. His fingers gripped the chains tightly and pulled at them, blood seeping through open cuts along his wrists. His back arched off the bed, his head thrown back as a pitiful cry escaped his lip, his white release shooting over his chest. Loki collapsed wearily, all his energy spent.

The prince’s body shivered with the after-glow of his release as they both laid unmoving, their heavy breathing being the only sound filling the room. He felt the bed shift and Kortt's soft shaft pull out of him with a sickening  _ pop _ . It was then that Loki truly realized the gravity of what he had just done. Here he lay with a complete stranger, covered in unwholesome liquids belonging not only to the other man,  _ but to him also _ . He had become just as dirty as the man fucking him into the sheets.  _ And he begged for it -  _

Overwhelming shame took Loki and he quickly turned to his side, the chains twisting his wrists above him, as a mouthful of bile rose out of his stomach and poured onto the ground. The wretched smell and the burning it left in his throat made Loki want to cry even more. Everything was too much.  _ Why had it come to this? What did he do to anger the norns to deserve such a punishment? He just wanted to go home. _

The strong arm coming around to grip his naked waist reminded the boy that he couldn't go home. He was to stay here, with this man. And do gods know what. He didn't know how long he had laid there wrapped in Kortt's arms, but eventually Loki closed his eyes, trying his best to block out the foul smell of bile and sex, as he successfully attempted to drift into unconsciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

A soft melody of heavy snoring woke Loki from his sleep. He scrunched his eyes tight before opening them, lazily blinking away the morning blurriness. A warm aurora filled the room, practically begging the prince to fall back into his dreamful sleep.

The arm draped around his waist shifted, pulling Loki closer towards the owner. The prince couldn't help but let out a supple smile as he leaned into the touch. Many nights Loki had fallen asleep in his brother's strong arms as the thunderer swore to protect him from the dangers of the night. And many mornings Loki had woken to find his brother keeping true to his word.

The prince sighed in satisfaction and let his mind float aimlessly back into the tempting trance of blissful slumber.

A knock sounded at the door.

Loki ignored it, not wanting to rouse from his comfort. After no answer the knock sounded a second time, much louder than the first. He bitterly opened his eyes, thoroughly annoyed at the terrible timing. The boy sent a glance at the door but instead was met with the unconscious face of Kortt.

All air left the prince's lungs as he stared straight on at his attacker's face, their noses barely an inch apart. He instantly bit his tongue, resisting the urge to scream out his terror. Kortt, the man who had hurt him so intimately, was curled up next to him hugging his waist.

A third knock was heard, and the man lying next to the prince stirred in his sleep.

Loki winced in anticipation as Kortt growled lowly, his brow ruffling in confusion. A deep breath of relief escaped the prince's lips as his captor's features soothed as he fell back into his sleep.

Loki turned his head away from the man next to him and decided to look at the ceiling above instead. Even such a small movement sent a painful ache up his neck, spreading to his shoulders. He would have let out a groan if there had not been a sleeping  _ monster _ next to him.

With an experimental tug, the prince found the metal restraints enclosed around his wrist were as strong as ever and there was no hope of slipping them. A bold line of sensitive flesh entirely wrapped around the boy's bony wrists, indicating where the cuffs had rubbed his skin raw.

That damned knock echoed through the otherwise quiet room again, this time waking Kortt. Loki flung his head to the side, his face out of view from the rising man. He shut his eyes in hopes he could fool his captor into thinking he had not woken.

Kortt groaned before another knock was heard. "What?" he angrily grumbled. A loud  _ creak _ spilled into the quietness as the door opened.

"Eh, Boss," a new voice spoke, almost making Loki open his eyes. "There's someone on the line. He, eh, wants to talk with ya." It was one of the men that worked for Kortt. Loki could tell by the sloppy accent and the poor choice of grammar that these men had not studied through much schooling but instead chose to spend their time elsewhere. Maybe when no one else would hire them for paying jobs, Kortt took them in.

"Alright," Kortt answered, his voice more awake but still laced with dreariness. "I'll be right there." The door to the room then scraped shut, a long silence following.

The prince felt a slight shift on the bed and a warm hand came to the side of his face. Loki blinked hazily, turning his eyes to the man hovering above him. Kortt smiled widely as he moved his hand to gently grip the prince's chin. The man leaned down and placed a tender kiss upon the boy's lips. Loki immediately jerked his face away, a scowl finding its way to his face.

Kortt's smile fell as he pulled back to look at Loki, his expression now matching the prince's. "You will meet me in The Square," the man grudgingly stated, shifting the ruffled blankets to the side and climbing off the bed. Loki couldn't help but scuffle his eyebrows in confusion. 

_ The Square? What was that? Was it a room? If it was then The Square was a terrible name. _

"You will not complain." Kortt slipped on his pants, buckling his belt in the front. "And you will not be late." The man looked the prince directly in the eyes, glaring his orders, before he turned and left the room with shirt and shoes in hand.

Loki then found himself staring into the empty air where his captor was just standing.  _ Who was Kortt leaving to talk to? Why did he have to go to The Square? Why was nothing making sense?  _ His thoughts were distracted by the pounding in his head, matching the throbbing from his abused backside. The prince rolled his head back, allowing himself to close his eyes and drift off, purposefully ignoring his pain and confusion.

He jumped at the sound of the doorknob jiggling. Loki quickly attempted to flee from the dirty bed, but the chains kept him in place - reminding him that he was still a  _ prisoner _ in this dingy place. The prince quickly glanced around the room, looking for something to hide his shame.

A disgusting mix between his and Kortt's leftovers had crusted on his chest and between his legs, mixing with the dried blood. The crumpled sheets of the bed had been thrown to the ground when Kortt left and Loki sat naked,  _ completely exposed _ .

The door opened and Loki vainly crossed his legs, trying to preserve what little dignity he had left. Two large men, whom Loki recognized to be from the night before, entered the room and strided directly over to where Loki lay.

The prince, unbeknownst to him, was slightly trembling. His eyes never left the men standing above him. The two workers looked very much like the rest he had seen; tall, muscular, and dressed in dull colored clothing, mostly consisting of tans and browns.

One of Kortt's goons reached forward, frightening Loki into letting out a yelp. The trembling boy tucked into himself as much as he could, hoping that if he prayed hard enough they would go away. He squeezed his eyes shut, mentally preparing himself for the worst. Much to the prince's surprise, the man unlocked the chains that bound Loki's wrists. The prince’s deadweight arms fell down from their post, blood rushing back into his fingertips bringing about a tingling sensation.

Neither of Kortt's men said a word as they hauled the thin prince off the bed and to his feet, ignoring the boy's groans of pain. Loki felt his cheeks flush hot with embarrassment as he heard a hum of interest come from one of the workers, the man's eyes gazing upon the prince's body. It was only a moment later when both of Loki's arms were seized and he was pulled towards the exit of the room.

"W- Wait," Loki sputtered as his feet dragged uselessly on the ground. "Where are you taking me?" The prince attempted to gain his footing, but with every step he managed to take, the men holding him took three more.

"To bathe," was all the man tightly gripping the boy's left arm said, his brown eyes never deterring from the path in front of him.

True to the worker's word, Loki found himself being led to the bathing chambers where two men washed him much like they had before. The prince stood under the cold spray of the water, determined to ignore the hands washing all over his body this time around. _ Ignore the cold water. Ignore the prying eyes and corrupt comments. Ignore the sharp pains coming from his abused body. Just ignore it all. _

It didn't feel like long before the water was turned off and Loki was handed a pile of neatly folded clothes. By now, the young prince was much more skilled at discounting the dirty smiles and perverted whistles as he quickly changed into his given clothes. To his discomfort, Loki was dressed in leather bottoms, giving him meager room to move. Perhaps the tight garment would suppress his pain enough for him to walk without a limp. 

When he was finished, only one of Kortt's men grabbed his shoulder and led him out of the room. Loki forced himself to swallow the incessant desire to slap the man's hand away, limiting himself to grinding his teeth together instead.

The two of them walked down a twisting hallway until finally they stopped in front of a tall door. "Go inside," the man ordered, giving the prince's back a callous push. Loki looked upon the great door, figuring this was  _ The Square _ . With closer inspection he noticed the small symbols carved into the wood's exterior. Meticulous lines and swirls criss crossed each other forming bantam pictures and designs in the wood.

"Why?" Loki tentatively asked, turning his attention away from the wooden barrier and to the man standing behind him. "What is beyond the door?" When the worker didn't answer, or even look in the prince’s direction, Loki felt compelled to ask again. "Is it The Square?"

The man’s dark eyes moved towards the prince, scowling down at the younger. "Go or I make you go."

"Tell me what The Square is," Loki demanded, increasingly growing tired of being denied even the most basic of answers.

The man growled angrily, his hands beginning to form fists by his side. "Now.”

The man's threat was clear. Loki turned back to the door, an unsettling fear appearing in the back of his mind. The prince knew it was better to follow the worker's command than to find out what he was willing to do to make him enter through the mysterious door.

Loki took a deep breath of air, closing his eyes in precaution, trying to find a way to will his feet to move ahead. The prince suddenly felt a hand come in contact with his shoulder, butting him forward. Loki's eyes snapped open as he barely managed to regain his balance. He glanced up at the barricade uncertainly once more before moving a shaky hand to the handle, his long fingers circling around the cool metal. He pushed down on the handle and an audible  _ click _ sounded, echoing off the walls of the dingy hallway.

Loki gave a moment's pause before he pulled. Vibrations jolted into his hands as the door began to groan in protest, unwilling to be opened. Loki pulled harder, bringing his free hand to grip around the handle, and putting his entire weight into the task. The wooden wall finally began to move and a loud screeching sound was made audible.

The door was heavy and it was taking all the thin prince had to move the panel at all. So when Loki had managed to crack an opening large enough for him to slip through, he stopped his efforts and released his grip, trying to catch his breath.

A chilled breeze blew from the opening, brushing against his cheeks and through his hair. The air smelled of wet dirt and wild mammalian, making an  _ unusual scent for indoors _ . The prince attempted to look into the room but it was murky and dark, cloaking whatever lay inside in shadows

He felt another push to his back, this time so forceful it pushed the boy to the ground. Loki scrambled to his feet and past the door, slipping into the cold wet air - the smell of damp soil slapping him in the face.

He took a few steps forward, knowing that with each passing stride he was getting further and further away from the hallway he had come from - his only way of escape. But Loki knew better. The man standing guard wouldn't let him exit the door. 

Loki gulped down the nervous feeling rapidly growing inside him as he continued to walk forward through the thick darkness. Seemingly out of nowhere, a dim light appeared off in the distance, illuminating a small area around it.  _ A torch? _

A flicker of hope filled the prince as he began running towards the light, not even taking a second to think of what the light could be. He just ran and ran, ignoring the burning in his lungs.

The light was becoming larger and as Loki neared closer, he could see that it wasn't a flame but it was, in fact, an opening in whatever room he had been in. A small cave like opening leading out into a golden world.

Loki sprinted faster than ever after seeing his escape. He could see the  _ outside! He could see Asgard and all her beauty! He was going to be able to see his family and his friends. He would be able to tell them how much he missed their company and how much he wished to never leave their side again. He was free! He was finally free! _

The prince didn't stop running as he passed through the opening, sprinting straight out into the light. The brightness momentarily blinded him, but that did not deter his motivation. Loki took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet fresh air he had come to miss so much.

Trees stood tall from the ground, bushes and leafy plants littered along the surface of the terrain. Birds chirped merrily up in the trees almost cheering the prince on. Loki expertly dodged the obstacles and continued to run full heartedly, not caring to examine his surroundings too closely.

That was  _ until _ the trees began to clear and the plants stopped appearing and the prince was met with a large stonewall. Loki ceased his movements, his heavy breathing begging to take its toll, as he looked up the wall.

Loki's entire world seemed to crumble inside him as the crushing feeling of realization hit him. The impenetrable wall reached up nearly twenty feet in height and was at least fifty in length. With understanding dawning upon him, Loki looked around to realize there were four identical walls -  _ except for the opening he had come out of _ \- all joined to make a perfect  _ square _ .

_ He was trapped in  _ a  _ square. _

"Welcome my prince," the booming voice of Kortt announced, coming out of nowhere and everywhere at the same time. "To The Square!"

Loki's eyes rapidly searched through the dense trees looking for the horrifying man, but found no sign of him anywhere. "Here," Kortt continued, his voice echoing off the giant walls. "You will be put to the test."

Loki stepped backwards trying to distance himself from the yard, but found he could go no further when his back made contact with the wall.

"The rules are simple."

Loki frantically whipped his head around trying to find a way out, noting that the trees were not of enough height to climb above the wall.

"Stay alive."

Nor was the wall climbable. The prince's heart began to rapidly beat in his chest, as his mind rushed into panic mode.  _ What was happening? He was trapped. There was no way out! What was he going to do? _

"Hunt."

Loki's heart stopped in his chest, as a three bone-chilling howls were heard followed by viscous barking. Out of the corner of his eye, the prince saw two large dogs predatorily closing in on him, a third coming directly at him.

"Or be hunted."


	8. Chapter 8

_ Fuck. _ The first word that came to mind.

Three large grey wolves were stalking their way towards him. One from his left, one from his right, and one advancing directly at him. Their size was tremendous, surely large enough to take down even the largest of cows with ease. Loki absentmindedly took a half step back only to be met with the damning stone wall.

The dogs snarled, baring their pointed yellow teeth at him. Loki had not failed to miss the way their blade-like claws buried themselves deep into the soil with every step and the viscous look in their black eyes either.

A loud blaring horn sounded and all of a sudden the three wolves surrounding him bolted, running straight towards him. Five seconds. He had five seconds until the carnivorous beasts would devour him.

_ Five. _

He quickly looked for a weapon. A sword. A knife. Something.  _ No, no, no! No weapon! Nothing but sticks and dirt. _

_ Four. _

_ Escape! Run away! There has to be an escape! _ He searched all possible means of evading the approaching dogs, but found nothing. They're too tall, too big. They would catch him.

_ Three. _

_ Think! _ The wolves were closing in on him fast, powerful jaws open and ready to bite.  _ Distraction! Distract and then run. But how? What could be a distraction? No! No distraction. Nothing but death. I'm going to die. _

_ Two. _

_ Wait! My magic. Ha! Oh, praise the Norns! Think - concentrate. _ Loki balled his hands into fists, squeezing his eyes closed, and directing all his energy into summoning his seidr.

_ One. _

All three of the wolves pounced onto the boy, jagged claws ready to tear apart flesh, only to be ripped back by a powerful burst of energy. The dogs howled in pain as they hit the ground several yards away.

Loki hesitantly opened his eyes, his body still trembling with the aftershock of the explosion. He glanced down at his hands, ultimately surprised to have done such a powerful spell. To exploit such a massive amount of magic was an incredibly hard thing for him to do.

But the prince had no time to gloat as the three hounds began to get up, their animosity greater than ever.  _ Think quick! _ Loki hurriedly glanced around at his surroundings.

Without even comprehending his rash decision, the prince took off running, his feet carrying him faster than he thought possible. He heard the cry of the wolves and their thundering steps following behind him. Loki dodged between the trees, their density quickly thickening as he ran into the heart of The Square. Strayed branches and prickly bushes clawed at his skin as he whirled past them, ignoring the stinging pain as they cut open his flesh. All that mattered was to get away from the wolves - to  _ survive _ .

Adrenaline coursed through his veins and his head pulsed with throbbing pain as he gasped to get more air into his lungs. He needed to rest and catch his breath. But he couldn't. Couldn't stop. Just keep running.

An alarming sinister growl sounded and Loki swore he could feel the hot breath of the wild animals on his neck, threatening to end him. He picked up his speed, his mind insensitive to how his body was slowly breaking under the intense movement.

Dodge and weave.  _ Brilliant! _ The prince abruptly cut his momentum, turning a sharp corner around a tree and running in an entirely new direction. He had not the time nor the courage to look back to see if the ferocious canines were still behind him. Loki turned his direction again, neatly cutting across the trees with speed. He continued sprinting, moving sporadically down a nonexistent path.

A sudden pain in the back of the prince's calf had him cry out in pain and slow his pace. Three razor-like claws had sunken into his flesh, scraping their way down his leg. He screamed out his horror as the claws only sunk deeper into his muscle.

Despite the excruciating burning coming from his leg, Loki twisted back, kicking the jaw of the hound gripping onto his calf. The dog's head swung sideways from the blow, giving the sorcerer just enough time to push past his pain and take off running again.

His obvious new wound, combined with his old injuries and soreness from the night before, had taken their toll on the bruised boy. He tried to ignore his dilemma but his bleeding calf had not given up. Loki was forced to slow his run to a jog for each step on his battered leg felt like a thousands tiny shards of glass bedding themselves into his skin.

The barks of the wolves became louder, nearing his location fast. The prince glanced around, weighing his options carefully. Run through the pain in his leg and risk getting caught or find a way out.

_ Find a way out. _ He immediately shut his eyes, his mind going directly to his source of magic. The familiar warmth of energy swirled beneath his skin, but it was faint - not enough for the spell he needed.  _ Damn.  _ Loki looked up, his eyes expeditiously scanning his surroundings.

_ No! No, nothing here. Nothing but trees. Wait - trees! _ A smile almost appeared on the boys lips as he began racing as fast as possible with his stubborn limp. It had not been a problem until now, but all the neighboring trees were void of low branches. Just his luck. Loki came to the nearest tree, looking up expectantly at the towering wood, hoping to find some easier way than what was appearing in his mind.

A piercing howl shrieked just behind him, reminding the prince he had not all day to think upon his problem. He quickly removed his shirt, throwing it around the base of the tree, and tightly wrapping the ends around his palms. Without a second thought, Loki pulled on the shirt and kicked his uninjured leg up, wrapping it around the scraping bark of the tree. He repeated the action with his other leg, lifting his weight completely off the ground.

He first moved his hands, slinging the shirt higher up the tree and then did the same with his legs. It hurt to put so much weight on his battered calf, but it was either this or be eaten alive by starving dogs. Loki clenched his teeth together in both pain and concentration as he slowly made his way up the tree.

A sudden uproar of snarls and growls were heard and much to Loki's fear, he looked down and saw the giant wolves just below him. The three dogs snapped and barked, their large jaws aching to rip him apart. The prince gripped tighter to the tree, pushing himself to climb faster than before. He was not far off the ground and he had a while of ways to go to reach the nearest branch capable of supporting his weight.

He moved his hands up. Then his legs. His hands. Then his legs. He slowly made his way up the tree this way, knowing that if he fell it would be his end. The prince grunted in pain for each movement against the jagged bark cut into his skin, making him bleed onto the wood of the tree.

Unfortunately, the scent of fresh blood made the hounds even more crazed, biting and clawing at the tree in a frenzy. Their giant paws pounded on the tree as they scratched and ripped open the base, showing just how strong the beasts really were.

Loki fearfully peeked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the wild animals. Long strings of drool fell from their murderous teeth and their eyes glinted with an uncontrolled fire. The prince instantly turned his attention back to the task at hand, wishing he had never even looked in the first place. On the right, he was nearing a branch large enough to sit. Only a few more feet. Only a few more moments of pain filled climbing and then he could rest. He would be safe.

Loki crawled his way up the tree, inch by inch, until his goal was within reach. With much precaution the prince carefully slipped one of his hands out the end of his shirt, only to quickly bring the cloth to his mouth. He firmly bit down on the fabric, creating just enough resistance to keep his balance in the tree. With his very unstable position, Loki reached his free hand out towards the awaiting branch, attempting to latch his fingers around the limb.

A high-pitched shrill filled the air as the entire tree began to shake with violent trembles causing Loki's arm to slip. A fearful yelp came from the prince as he hurriedly struggled to keep his balance. The three hounds had begun to ram into the base forcing their entire strength into the tree.

Loki groaned in pain as his muscles began to shake with overuse, his body struggling to hold up his weight. He reached out his arm again, desperately trying to grasp onto the taunting branch. Aches of pain trembled through his body as his head spun. His labored breathing had not ceased and his vision was beginning to blur on the edges. The very tips of his fingers grazed the edge of the branch, filling him with determination. He shook his head, forgetting about his discomfort, and reached again but was met with the same result. An idea bloomed in the prince's head, causing a flicker of something akin to elation warm his mind.

Loki removed the portion of shirt from his mouth, clasping it in his hand once more. With both his hands now helping support the pressure, he ever so slightly began to shift his weight to the right. He moved his hands and the shirt to the left causing his upper body to move in the opposite way. He shimmied his legs around the tree, moving his torso closer to the branch with each motion.

His horizontal movements collided with the vertical bark, shoving jagged splinters of wood into the prince's arms and thighs, instantly drawing more blood. However, Loki didn't stop. He slowly continued to move to the right, each movement getting him closer and closer to his destination. But he didn't have time for slow movements. His muscles ached and he realized he couldn't hold himself up much longer.

Loki cried out in anguish as a new theory hit him. He did not know if his idea would work, but it was the only chance he had. Giving himself mental leeway, the prince counted to three before jerking his whole body to the side, throwing his entire body off the form of the tree.

Time had felt as if it had slowed as Loki jumped; his body ripping through the air. He threw his hands perilously towards the branch, hoping that if anything good were to happen to him today that it would be this.

And just as Loki was ready to accept his fate, the palm of his hands came in contact with the wooden limb. Instantly he clasped his hands around the branch, his body hanging helplessly below. The barking of the dogs never ceased as Loki dangled above them, his feet just out of reach from their impressive jaws. His hands stung with strain as his weight landed entirely upon them.

A sudden nip at his foot had the prince frantically trying to pull himself up onto the branch. He looked down to the wolves jumping, nearly clamping their razor like teeth onto his feet each time. With an unexpected burst of tenacity, Loki curled his hands tighter around the branch and bent his arms.

His muscles screamed at him in protest as he shakily began pulling himself up onto the branch. The moment his forearms could reach, he quickly hugged the wood, leaning his chest over the branch and kicking his legs up. Loki scooched his way up the limb until he came to the where the branch connected to the whole of the tree.

He rotated his body until his back leant against the tree, his legs stretching out before him. A whole new flood of pain hit him as he finally had a chance to rest. His heavy breathing came in gasps as he struggled to get the much needed air into his clenched lungs. His bleeding leg, full of splinters, felt as if it was on fire, burning a hole through his flesh.

And after a moment of comprehension, a small laugh of astonishment escaped Loki's lips. Another chuckle left his lips and another and another until he was plain out laughing uncontrollably.  _ Did he seriously just run from a pack of wolves - actually kicking one in the face, and then proceed to climb a tree with just his hands and legs, jump to the branches, barely managing to pull himself up as wolves below bit at his ankles? Man, no one would believe this story. _

Finally having a moment to properly think, the prince inspected his leg. Three large claw marks had slit through his pants and into his skin, trailing the entire way from the back of his knee to just above his boot. In an experiment, Loki touched one of his fingers to the openly bleeding wound. He instantly recoiled his hand, hissing in pain as a shockwave of poignant torment travelled up his leg.

His thumb brushed over the tattered fabric in his hand, a solution forming inside his mind. He unravelled his hand from what used to be his shirt, but was now nothing but a beat up piece of cloth, and tore it up into five shreds. Placing a hand under his injured calf, Loki positioned his leg at such an angle so it was easily accessible.

The prince took three strips of cloth and began wrapping his leg in various spots. He had not enough bandages to cover his entire leg, so he had to settle for just binding the deepest part of his wound. He then took the remaining strips and tied one on each of his blistered hands.

A tired sigh came from the boy as he finished his work, leaning back against the tree. Loki tilted his head to the side to gaze down on the angered wolves who were barking manically below him, and he couldn't help but let a goofy grin slip. The wolves howled and barked ruthlessly at him but had no way of reaching him. _ He was safe. _

Or so he thought. Just as the prince was about to praise the Norns, that deafening horn blew again. It nearly startled Loki from his tree. The horn seemed to blow for an unnecessary amount of time before it went out, leaving complete silence.

The lack of commotion was a strange feeling and Loki carefully listened, straining his ears for any noise. He peered down towards the ground, fully expecting to see three grey wolves but was surprised to find nothing there. Nothing but the forest floor.

His suspicions grew as the woods slowly became  _ eerily _ quiet; not so much as even a cricket chirped. His own unnerved breaths filled the air as he moved from his sitting position to his feet, his hands wrapping around the branch for balance as he crouched in the tree.

A chilling breeze ruffled the leaves of the trees as the atmosphere drastically began to fall in temperature. The once summer air was now dropping to a crisp condition and the rays of sunlight randomly piercing through the holes in the canopy of trees were beginning to turn dark.  _ Darkness? _ But it was daylight a few moments ago. Midday Loki would have guessed by the placement of the sun. But the unmistakable chilling air and the quickly fading sunlight said otherwise.

An owl hooted ghoulishly, breaking the heavy silence. Loki hectically searched for the bird, but the darkness had become so dense the prince could barely see the tree branch beneath him.

A howl sounded in the distance. Probably one of the wolves. But wait. He was in The Square. There was no distance. Everything was trapped inside the towering walls.  _ How did the wolves get out? _

_ None of this made sense! How did he out run the wolves? Where did they even go? Why would they leave him? And where did the sun go? Why was it suddenly night? Where was th- _

Realization suddenly dawned upon the prince. He absentmindedly shook his head as his questions began to answer themselves.

"This is not real," he whispered.


	9. Chapter 9

"None of this is real," Loki repeated to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. The wolves - they were nothing but his imagination, he was sure of it.  _ But how? How is that possible? _

The owl hooted again in the distance, bringing the prince from his thoughts. But there was no owl -  _ was there? _ Loki shook his head, too many confusing ideas floating through his mind. He examined the area around him, now taking notice of how  _ perfect _ the forest looked.

The terrain smelled of dirt and grass, and just the right amount of fallen leaves coated the forest floor. Bushes and shrubs were impeccably placed in the correct places, and the berries hanging from their branches were flawlessly fashioned.

Loki glanced down at his leg. His injuries surely were real. He could  _ feel _ the pain.  _ So was everything real? None of this was making sense. Was this a dream? _ Loki had never experienced such a realistic dream before. But that didn't mean he wasn't dreaming.

The prince shifted his grip on the branch supporting his weight, moving his hands to wrap around the wood. He then proceeded to slide his way off the branch until his body hung from the tree. Without a second thought, Loki dropped from the tree, his feet hitting the ground hard.

A small grunt came from his lips as a jolting feeling of pain sped up his leg. Loki leaned off his injured leg as he looked around him. The trees were all evenly placed apart from each other, reaching the exact same height and width. The only difference between them were the branches which hung at different heights.

Everything seemed so uniform now that he actually took a second glance at the setting.  _ Where was he?  _

"None of this is real," the prince repeated louder. Loki quickly spun around, looking for something that wasn't so flawless and perfect, only to come up empty handed. "This is not real!" he shouted to the sky, his voice cracking at the sudden strain. His own words echoed off the walls, repeating his declaration back to him. 

A cold wind blew against Loki’s cheek. An eerie silence was the only thing to answer the boy back. _Where did everything go?_ _The birds, the insects, the wolves. What happened to them?_

Suddenly a deafening horn blared, cracking the silence. Loki instantly covered his ears, the uneven tone unbearably loud. It only sounded for a moment, and when the boy uncovered his ears, a ringing echoed in his head.

A booming voice abruptly shouted, "Well done,” causing Loki to startle. He hastily looked around him. "You have passed."

Loki spun around, frantically trying to locate the voice. It sounded as if it did not have a source, but he knew better. He could recognize that sickening voice anywhere.

"Show yourself!" Loki ordered. He didn't know where it was coming from or even where to look, but he kept his confidence, not letting his fear slip into his expressions. He began walking through the forest, his limp creating a very prominent hindrance.

"There are rumors of your intelligence," Kortt continued as if Loki had never spoken. "I wanted to test that for myself."

The prince felt his hands ball into fists.  _ What was Kortt talking about? What rumors? _ Loki continued through the forest, staggering towards the closest wall. He  _ might _ have had the beginning of a plan.

"So I set up a little stimulation. A little game." Kortt laughed, causing a wave of animosity to push through the prince. _ A game? Did Kortt think almost killing him was all just a sick game? _

"How?" Loki growled, his body violently beginning to shake. Was it with pain - or anger, the prince never did find out.

"The fog," the voice simply answered. So Kortt  _ could _ hear him. "There was a special little concoction in that tunnel."

Smart. Loki would have to give him that. But not as smart as him. Kortt said so himself; Loki was intelligent. He could find a way out - he had to. The boy neared the towering wall, a large gate shutting off the only exit in The Square. 

"It was all fake," Loki stalled, inspecting the thick bars of the closed gate.

"Why Prince Loki, I am so glad you figured that out." The tone of Kortt's voice had Loki imaging the disgusting smirk on the bastard's face. "Otherwise you would be in a very bad condition."

"But the wolves weren't real," Loki argued, taking a moment to actually ponder his captor's words. If nothing was real then why would he be in danger? 

"Oh, but you didn't know that," Kortt mocked. His voice seemed to be nearing the prince - less of an echo and more of a shout. "Everything seemed so real to you, didn't it?" A small silence filled the air as Loki glanced behind him. He didn't know if that was were Kortt's voice was coming from, but it just felt right. "You would have driven yourself crazy - running from the creatures you imagined. Eventually would have worn out your body until you dropped dead from exhaustion."

A small growl rumbled in the back of the prince's throat. This man was  _ barbaric _ . How could he take pleasure from this? 

Loki bit his tongue; he needed to find a way out before anyone could reach him and force him to relive this experience. He placed his hands on the bars, giving them a slight shake. "But you didn't know I would figure out your puzzle," Loki spoke, trying to buy as much time as he could.

"That's what made it a game." Kortt’s words dripped with twisted gratification. 

Loki moved his palms to wrap around the underside of the metal and put all his strength into lifting up the bars. A sudden hissing noise had the prince glance behind him once again. A dense smoke had begun to overflow from the tops of the walls, speedily cascading to the ground. Loki frantically attempted to lift the gate.

The smoke had begun to fill the air, quickly making it harder and harder for the prince to see. He violently coughed as the thick fog filled his throat and choked his lungs - but he wouldn't give up. Loki continued to try and force the gate to open up, but the bars would not budge.

His eyes began to sting as he gasped for air. Smoke surrounded the boy, filling The Square with its poisonous chemical. The boy continued to choke, only breathing in more of the smoke as his attempts at freedom became weaker and weaker. It was only a moment waiting before Loki dropped to his knees, a hand clutched to his chest, as he plummeted into unconsciousness.

OOOO

"Fuck!" the man groaned, gripping Loki's bony hips even tighter as he thrusted into the prince. The other brute heavily pounding into the teenager's mouth responded with a lustful moan. Hot tears warmed the back of Loki's eyes as he desperately tried to keep himself from gagging at the intrusion forcing itself down his throat.

Despite the extreme discomfort and the harsh ways his body was being used, the prince let his mind wonder to how he had come to this.

It had been years. Years of _pure_ _torture_. Loki hardly even remembered what life was like back in his old home. He remembered the palace being huge and golden. And he remembered running through the wide hallways with another boy. _What was his name?_ Loki couldn't remember. All he could remember was that _he was Loki_.

The prince barely remembered the night he was taken. Kortt, who had beaten the prince into calling him Master, had referred to that night as the day Loki was rescued. Rescued from his own family.

The first few weeks and months Loki had fought. He fought every moment of every day. He would not stay in this dingy place where he didn't belong. He tried to escape. He tried so very hard, but he was too weak. Every time he escaped, strong men with no shame would catch him and drag him, kicking and screaming to Master.

It had been so long since Loki had any contact with his family or anyone from the outside world. It wasn't until a year after his capture, did Loki finally get an answer from his Master. Master had said that Odin didn't "negotiate with terrorists." That Odin wouldn't pay the money for his own son’s freedom. That Odin didn't love Loki. That Odin had forgotten all about him. And Loki believed him.

After that, it didn't take much to force the prince into submission. Before Loki had hope to cling to. Hope that his family was looking for him and were coming to free him. He would be free and burn this place to the ground. But this family wasn't looking for him. They forgot about him. His life was here now, giving pleasure to whoever wanted it.

And so for the following years, as Loki matured, he had been trained, beaten, and abused. Master had taken the teenager's intelligence to his advantage, training the prince to excel in speed, agility, and tactic rather than brute force like most other Aesir. And Loki flourished. He had become adept in the art of stealth, using his skills and magic to bend the shadows to his liking. Loki had become even more skilled in trickery. He could weave lies as golden as the sun and could deliver them without stutter. It was truly a marvelous gift. The prince had gotten Master out of many sticky situations with his words alone.

But the teenager's looks were what everyone loved the most. Even though Loki had become older and trained as a warrior, the prince was still thinner than all others. He had gotten stronger, but compared to the men he sparred with, he was  _ nothing _ . Loki wasn't allowed outside for fear of him running away, directly causing his skin to remain ivory and without blemish. His dark hair had grown a considerable amount, the loose waves falling just below his shoulders. He was quite the talk of the men.

In all the years Loki had been in captivity, he had never seen one woman.  _ Not one _ . But the men had to relieve their stress and desires somehow, right? Naturally they flocked to Loki, but Master had been very protective of his little prince - he didn't want to share.

Eventually the other men offered to pay to have a night with the teenager. It didn't take much convincing to get Master to agree. Loki had begged Master to keep him to himself. He rather be with one man, not hundreds. But Master didn't listen. As long as Loki was in his bed by the end of the night, any man was allowed to have their way with the prince - for a fair price of course.

And right now was one of those moments. 

"You like this?” The stranger at Loki's back growled, giving a harsh slap to the teenager's pale cheek. The prince arched his back in pain, his nails fiercely digging into the mattress beneath him. The man in his mouth laughed, "You love this!"

It took everything in the prince’s control to not bite down on the flesh between his teeth. He breathed deeply through his nose, painfully keeping his mouth slack as the man's member forced its way down his throat. He had learned how to deal with the pain and he could put up with the roaming and pinching hands, but what Loki absolutely  _ hated _ was having another man in his mouth.

His haw would ache and his throat would bruise. Not to mention the wretched taste that lined his throat for hours after. Even the smell - it was just a terrible experience. There had been oh so many times the prince had thought about just biting off anything someone tried to force in between his teeth -  _ but he knew better. _ Master would do so much worse if he ever found out - which he would. Master always finds the truth. 

The man behind Loki grasped a handful of the teenager's ass into his hand, squeezing it painfully. "Make ya’self tighter ‘round me."

Loki obeyed his command, moving his body to find the angle the monster liked best. The man groaned, thrusting faster until he finished and had his fill. Not much longer, and the member in his mouth twitched and emptied its own release down Loki's throat. 

As soon as the hands left his body, the prince rolled away, wiping any leaking fluids from his mouth. Tears burned his eyes but he would never cry in front of anyone anymore. The first time he had been used so brutally he cried - but that was years ago. Loki had grown up. He had learned not to show weakness.

Loki slid off the bed, quickly finding his pants laying absentmindedly on the floor. One of the men on the bed sat up, his eyes landing on the prince. "Wait. We ain’t done with you yet." Between heavy breaths, the man reached out to grab the wrist of the hurrying teenager.

"N- no," Loki calmly said, forcing his face to remain stoic despite the building dread pooling in his stomach. That familiar salty taste burned the back of his throat and he wanted nothing more than to throw up the unholy substance. "It is nearly midnight. I must be back to Master by midnight."

"No, you ain't leavin' yet," the same man argued, tightening his hold around the teenager’s wrist. "We bargained a hefty price for ya’ and we gonna get what we paid for." The man reached to pull the prince back onto the bed but Loki panicked and jumped back, twisting his body out of the brute’s hold.

The man roared as the prince slipped his grip. It took all but a few seconds for Loki to grab his pants and run out of the room. Angry shouts and threats from both men were heard from the room as the teenager sprinted down the hallway. By now he had mentally mapped the tunnels;  _ every twist, every turn, and every possible way of escape _ for times like these.

Loki turned the corner and slipped into a large gap in the wall. It was large enough to fit him but small enough no one would think to look twice. And just as he calculated, two naked men ran right past him a few seconds later.

Loki took his chance and slipped from the hole, running the opposite direction his pursuers. He knew it was late and if he didn't make it back to Master in time - Loki’s heart seized at the thought. With pants still in hand, the prince ran as fast as he could the entire way back to his Master's chambers, not once stopping to take a breath.

He slipped into the room, praying Master had not come back yet. The prince's eyes looked straight to the clock. Two minutes past midnight. He  _ hadn't _ made it. 

Loki trepidly looked around, seeing a perfectly made bed and untouched food on the table.  _ Good _ . Master truly had not been back yet, which meant that Loki was free of punishment.  _ Master would never know _ . An unexpected creaking of a door sounded just behind the prince, followed by the clicking of the door shutting.

_ But Master always knew. _

"You're late," Kortt growled.


	10. Chapter 10

"You're late," Kortt growled.

The prince's body immediately tensed at the all too familiar voice. He heard the heavy footsteps of the man walking behind him, each step getting closer - louder. Loki shut his eyes, sending a quick prayer to the Norns as the air in his lungs stuck to the back of his throat.

A large, calloused hand was laid on his shoulder, sending a shiver coursing throughout the teenager’s body. He bit his tongue as he fought to keep his whimpers inside. He didn't intend to be late, it was an accident. An accident that wasn’t his fault.

"I don't like it when you're late," Master snarled, his breath running down the back of the prince’s neck. Loki pinched his tongue between his teeth, trying to focus on the new taste of blood in his mouth rather than what the other man had the ability to do to him.

"I apologize," Loki said, forcing a calm tone. It was taking everything in him to keep his body from trembling under Master’s grip.

"What did you say?" Kortt barked, making the prince flinch.

Loki hesitantly opened his eyes and answered with shaky breaths, "I apologize, Master." He blinked his eyes rapidly, forcing away his tears as Kortt walked around in front of him. The taller man leaned down to Loki's height, his grey eyes menacingly starring the teenager down.

Loki swallowed nervously, his tongue darting out to reach his dry lips. Master narrowed his eyes, a threatening scowl coming to his face. Loki immediately looked away and dropped his eyes to his bare feet.

A smug noise left Kortt's lips. Out of the prince's peripheral vision, he saw the man straighten his back and turn around. A moment of relief flashed through the prince’s mind. But Loki knew better than to think this was all over. 

The room was uncomfortably quiet as Loki waited for Master to speak. Loki had arrived late before and usually ended up receiving a much more severe punishment than only having to apologize. Something felt -  _ off _ . Master wasn’t shouting or hurting Loki in any way. Loki shuffled his fingers nervously, trying to remain calm and collected as the tension in the air continued to increase.

Kortt suddenly whipped around, his hand smacking against the teenager's face. The blow forced Loki to stumble back, a hand immediately coming to his irritated cheek. Tears were now inevitable as Loki looked back up at the man.

"Are you crying?" Master mocked, walking towards the prince. "Does that hurt?" Loki stepped further away from the advancing man, a hand still pressed on the stinging area. "Do you want your mother?" Kortt bared his teeth as he reached towards Loki, grabbing a fistfull of the teenager's dark locks. A pained cry filled the room as Kortt dragged the prince by his hair, throwing him down on the bed.

"Your mother doesn't care for you!" Master yelled, promptly walking to a dresser and opening one of the many drawers. "Not once has your family come looking for you." He reached into the shelf and pulled out a long leather braided strip. The prince's emerald eyes widened as he saw what his Master held.

Loki curled into himself as he knew what was coming. This punishment was not one he was new to. There was no escape. If he tried to run it would only make his Master’s anger worse. The only thing he could do was bear through it and hope it ended quickly.

"You're nothing," Kortt growled as he unwound the strip, its great length falling to the carpeted floor. "Not even your own family wants you." The man raised his arm and with lightning speed brought the leather down on the teenager's skin. Loki screamed in pain as the whip connected with his side, leaving a searing red wound. "I took you in." The leather cord lashed at the prince's skin again, leaving another cruel mark on his exposed back. "I've been raising you." Three more lashes followed, each one worse than the last. "And you don't even show me respect!"

Again and again Kortt slashed at Loki's skin, tearing open his sensitive flesh. Loki buried his face into the bed to muffle his pained cries. After every attack, more of his blood seeped onto the wrinkled sheets beneath him. It felt like an eternity to the prince as this continued - Master fiercely whipping the teenager and Loki lying there taking it.

But eventually the lashes slowed and all that was left was the heavy breathing of Master and the sobs of Loki. It hardly mattered to the prince when Kortt sat down on the bed, the mattress dipping with the added weight.

The man leant forward propping his elbows on his knees as a long sigh left his lips. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, a hand running through his own dirty brown hair.

Loki didn't respond. He turned his face away, hiding it in the midst of the many pillows. His back throbbed with stinging pain as he openly bled. The last thing he wanted was a nice and dandy conversation.

Kortt breathed out wearily, running his hands down his face. "I got carried away." His words could have almost been mistaken to have an apologetic tone. When Loki never responded, Kortt moved further onto the bed, sitting down next to the shaking prince. Using the gentlest touch he could, Master pushed the scattered black hair out of the teenager's eyes.

Loki whimpered in both pain and fear as his Master let his hand linger along his cheek, his fingers brushing against his lips.  _ Did he not get punished enough? _

"Loki," Kortt said, making the prince retract further into the pillows. "Look at me."

Loki did not want to look at him - not at all. But he could only imagine the consequences if he disobeyed yet again. He drew his head out from the pillows, daring to look his Master in the eyes. His gaze locked with his Kortt's and that feeling of hopelessness returned. It was always like this. Loki had never found comfort when Master was around. Master always wanted something and it was never anything good. 

Kortt smiled when the prince showed his face. He traced his thumb over the prince's eyebrow, loving how soft the teenager felt under his touch. Master leaned down, stopping when his lips hovered just above Loki's. As he breathed in, he relished the intoxicating scent the prince gave off.

Loki made a small noise in the back of his throat as he knew what was coming. Master wanted him - he just knew it. Master never acted like this unless he wanted his desires satisfied. Loki tried his best not to whine when the familiar hands gripped his thighs, prying them open.

The teenager cried out in pain as he was forced onto his bleeding back. Long ago Loki had stopped fighting, allowing his Master to move his body however to his liking. To his surprise, Loki felt himself be moved off of his tortured back and into a new position. He never opened his eyes until everything seemed to shift to a halt.

He cautiously peeked open his eyes, quickly examining the situation. Master lay on the bed, his hands around the teenager's hips as the prince straddled his waist. Loki choked back a sob as pain flooded through his body. With him being on top, his back hurt much less but Loki had already slept with two others but a few moments ago, leaving him freshly sore and raw.

"Shh," Kortt hushed with a very sudden gentleness.  _ The calm before the storm _ . Loki knew what came next, he was no fool. This was just part of an act. Master was going to get rough any moment now. "I can make you feel better," Kortt smiled.

Loki bit his tongue as he closed his eyes and nodded. He would play along and act like this was ok. As Kortt was shifting the prince's thighs to spread wider, Loki got an idea. A damn  _ terrible _ idea. Loki peeked open his eyes, looking to his Master. He mentally kicked himself over, debating whether he truly would dare to disobey his Master on purpose. If his plan failed, it would result in more punishment, more pain, and quite likely his death. The teenager couldn’t afford any more blood loss. 

"Start already," the man ordered, making Loki jump from his thoughts. In that moment - he above his master, hips straddling the bigger male - Loki made his decision. The prince unknowingly bit his lip as he gazed down at his Master whom he had come so accustomed to pleasing over the years of being in his captivity. Loki swallowed the dryness on his tongue as he began his dreaded task.

Green eyes flicked to watch as his fingers unbuttoned Master’s trousers. The movements of freeing Kortt made the prince tremble slightly, but he convinced himself it was solely from exhaustion.

Loki wrapped his hand around his Master's shaft, slowly beginning to stroke him. Kortt moaned in response as the teenager entrancingly played with him. Over many nights in the bedroom, Loki had learned what his Master enjoyed the most; _taunting_ _foreplay_. The prince allowed his thin fingers to delicately brush teasing strokes as he rose further up the hard member. 

The prince rose to his knees, careful to keep his hand around his Master's member. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried his best not to think about what he was doing.  _ He had to do this. There was no other way. _

Ever so slowly Loki eased his hips down. A gasp left the prince's lips as his body was forced to stretch open once again in the same night, and Master was soon to respond with a deep, throaty groan.

Loki managed to swallow his pain as jolting aches sent a fiery burn through his body. Kortt had always been one of the largest out of all the men and it caused the prince to arch his back to relieve some of the pressure. His head rolled back and his eyes watched the ceiling pull away when he finally began sliding down on the length of his Master, never stopping until his cheeks firmly pressed against Kortt's hips.

An involuntary groan left Loki's lips when the man shifted under him, his Master's fingers coming to fondle the prince's butt between his hands. Kortt began to lift the teenager off his member. Loki bit his tongue when he slipped entirely off only to be roughly pushed back down.

"Y- yes," Kortt purred, eyes half lidded, hands fiercely clawing into the teenagers backside as he shifted Loki to rub in a new way. Loki whimpered even louder before his eyes snapped open. Loki bit his lip again as his gaze locked on the man beneath him.

_ He had to stay focused. Block out the pain - stay focused _ . The sickening sound of Loki's bare skin sliding against Kortt’s as the prince bounced up and down on his master made Loki want to vomit. 

The prince swallowed thickly, giving a shiver before taking control. He grinded his hips down, hating the feel of his Master rubbing on his sensitive tissue. Kortt instinctively bucked his hips in response, his hands squeezing tighter around Loki's hips.

_ Faster. They had to go faster. _ Loki blinked away the tears warming his eyes as he moved his hands to push down on Kortt's firm stomach. With his new angle the prince had a much better method to raise his hips up and force them back down, earning a new cry of surprise mixed with pleasure from the man beneath him each time.

Kortt let his eyes flutter closed as an overwhelming sensation took his body. He of course had made the teenager do this sort of thing before, but never had Loki taken such dominance over him. 

Loki saw that his Master's motions had subsided, and he was now in full control. Now was the time to act. Fear darted into Loki’s mind as more and more adrenaline pumped through his body. The prince took the moment to his advantage, springing his hands to viscously wrap around his Master's throat. Kortt's eyes popped open in surprise, his own hands coming to wrap around Loki's as he fought to regain his control.

But Loki was having none of it. He firmly planted his knees on either side of Kortt, his body still filled with the other man, as he pinned his Master to the bed. During all of the prince’s captivity, Master had allowed Loki to be beaten, abused, and harassed - but Kortt had also made sure Loki trained during the day. For years Loki had run, sparred, and suffered through many whippings which nearly led him to his death, and for years Loki had become stronger after every day.  _ It was about time he fought back. _

Kortt gasped for air as Loki squeezed harder, digging his nails into the other man's neck. The man beneath the prince gurgled, and choked, and tried to hurt the teenager, but nothing seemed to work. Loki's grip would not ease. The prince glared down at Kortt, a venomous growl leaving his teeth as he watched his Master's movements start to slow. Loki didn't even release his grip when Kortt had stopped struggling altogether.

He only squeezed harder, a fierce shout ripping from his throat. It wasn't until his fingernails started to sink into the man's neck did Loki pull away. He retracted his hands, now coated with a dead man's blood, as he leaned back. Ten angry purple marks littered Kortt's neck, a deep red blood seeping from the wounds.

Loki looked down to his hands - seeing the stain of red and  _ everything seemed to stop _ . He looked back up to the lifeless form of Kortt, a bloody hand coming to cover his mouth. "Oh no," he whispered, his entire body beginning to shake. "Oh, Norns."

Loki violently trembled as he pulled himself off of Kortt, an overwhelming sense of fear, hatred, and anguish taking over his thoughts. His idea… it worked. But he just  _ killed _ a man. 

Loki keened off the bed, a vile burning of vomit making its way up and out of his mouth.  _ How could he do that? How could he end another’s life? He was just so in the moment. So angry. He wasn't thinking straight. He didn't mean to actually follow through! _

The prince's head began to spin wildly as he stumbled across the room, his hand coming to hold his head wearily. He crouched to the ground, trying to catch his breath and stop the room from spinning. Loki squeezed his eyes shut and took forced deep breaths. It was too late now. There was nothing he could do about it. What's done is done.

Loki couldn't remember exactly what happened next, for everything was so hazy, but the prince found himself in the hallway, more vomit leaving his stomach. The world was spinning, he couldn't see straight, he couldn't think straight. But one thought remained clear as day. He had to get out. Leave.  _ Run _ .


	11. Chapter 11

They were chasing him and he was running. Of course all his years of training had made Loki strong but he wasn't invincible. The borderline unbearable pounding in his head and the razor sharp pains in his chest reminded him of that. But, as fate would have it, the prince couldn't stop. He had to keep pushing forward.

Dogs were barking behind him and their calls mingled with the enraged shouting of men. They were coming for him. All of them were coming for him. Loki had escaped the hallways and the enigmatic dungeon they had been keeping him in. He made his desertion silently and stealthily, fleeing undetected but it hadn't been very long at all before someone found Kortt's dead body. 

As expected that raised quite a commotion in the place. Alarms were set off, dogs were woken from their slumber, and all but the weakest of the men were ordered to track and hunt down the escaped prince.

Loki had barely made it out of the twisted hallways before he heard the thundering clamor of angry footsteps following him out. The teenager never stopped, though. He ran straight out into the grassy field occupying the threshold of the entryway into the secret layer. Hundreds of new smells and feelings were forced upon Loki as he arrived into open nature for the first time in forever.

He tried to block out all the new sensations hitting him; grass between his toes, a summer breeze swishing through his hair, the feeling of the sun on his face - but everything was just so  _ foreign _ . He had never left that rat hole in all his years in captivity. The only stimulation he received that was remotely close to the natural world was whatever Kortt could concoct in The Square.

So it would make complete sense that Loki had no idea where he was or how to reach safety. He figured if he could make it to the city, someone would stop the chase and help him - or at the very least Loki could lose his followers. But he had no ways of knowing where to go. All those years ago Kortt had promised the prince that no one could hear his cries for help. But Loki's keen eyes were smart enough to pick up the familiar constellations in the night sky. Thus he was far from the city but  _ close enough _ .

"Get him!" a threatening voice ordered, revealing Loki's predator much closer than the prince would have liked. The barks of ferocious animals grew even louder sending racking chills up his spine. If Loki tried hard enough, he could almost imagine that his mind was making up the heated breath running down his neck; the jaws snapping at his feet. 

An unexpected piercing pain on the teenager's lower leg forced Loki to sprint even faster. They were right behind him; trying to get him, hurt him. He couldn't let that happen. Not again. He hadn't the heart to look behind him, instead choosing to look for an escape. His body was failing him and it was becoming harder and harder to breath. It wouldn't be long before his own feet refused to carry the prince a step further.

He had to rest, stop, just catch his breath. A moment to recover. But unfortunately his hunters would never allow that. They wanted him. They wanted to keep him forever. To use him as their sick toy. 

No! Loki would never go back! He was done with that life. The teenager balled his hands into fists, forcing himself to keep moving.  _ Just a little further _ . Kortt had always taught him to use his mind. The mind is a man's greatest power.

The mind is a man's greatest power! Loki's instinct seemed to spring into action. How could he have missed it? All he had to do was outsmart his predators. And he surely was smarter than all of them combined. Loki flicked his eyes to the left and then to the right. 

“Find a way out,” he muttered to himself.

He looked at the approaching woods.  _ Climb the trees? No. That would never work. The men after him could climb trees too _ . Loki's speedy form passed through the frontline of the wood, poisoned thickets and spiked pinecones digging into his bare feet.  _ Try to send them astray? No. The dogs would sniff his scent before he even had a chance to make his escape. _ Sticks and leaves cracked beneath his weight making it nearly impossible to not be heard. There was no escape. He was going to be caught.

But then Loki saw it. To anyone else it would have looked like a shadow, but to someone so desperate it looked like a tunnel. A tunnel Loki could fit in! It was small and it would be a tight fit, but it was the teenager's only chance. This was one of the very rare few times the prince was grateful for his small build. The muscled men behind would never fit in such a small place.

Loki's body seemed to take over as he was quickly approaching the hole. With a few hard blinks, a lick of the lips, and a quick prayer to the Norns above the prince tilted his head down and slipped his foot out, his entire weight falling to the ground as he slid on the dirt right into the entrance of the tunnel.

He skidded down the pass of the rounded tunnel, the angry shrieks and howls of the men echoing behind him. Just as he suspected no one came after him. Branches of tree roots and jagged stones sliced into his muddy skin as he continued to fall further and further into the quickly darkening pit.

The tunnel wasn't an ideal place to be but it sure was better than up on the ground with savage animals determined to catch you. The prince glanced behind him, seeing the light of the surface quickly fading away along with the noise of his captors. 

Did he do it? Did he escape? They couldn't follow him anymore. They couldn't hurt him anymore. A scanty laugh left Loki’s lips as his most far fetched dream had come true.  _ He was free. _

But the Norns never had pity upon his soul. It was foolish of him to think he was safe. It wasn't until Loki saw the tunnel he was falling through cut off completely did he begin to panic. With his body falling so quickly and the end of the tunnel approaching even quicker, Loki tried anything to stop his movement. He roughly pushed his palms into the sides of the tunnels, digging his feet into the dirt, and although it did slow him somewhat Loki continued to fall further down towards the cutoff. He tried to kick and claw at anything, grabbing tree roots only to have them snap off in his hands.

But no matter how hard he tried, the inevitable came. A yelp sounded from Loki's throat as his entire body slipped out of the hole, falling feet first onto something hard beneath. The shock from the fall combined with the adrenaline from the chase had Loki laying motionless in the maggot filled dirt, his mouth agape as he groaned in pain. Resounding pain coming from his ankle caused the prince to move his hands to clutch around his calf.  _ Everywhere _ hurt. His lungs, his head, his legs, his ankle. Just  _ everything _ .

Loki tried to look around and find out where he was. He was laying on a dirty covered floor, that much he knew. He could smell the earthy texture and feel the dampness of the soil seeping into his skin. He had fallen a good fifteen feet from the dark tunnel in the ceiling above him. And if it weren't for the unimaginable pain in his head, Loki would have lifted his head further to examine his surroundings.

The prince rested his eyes only for a moment, trying to catch his breath. The pain was beginning to go numb. It started with a barely noticeable tingling in his fingertips, and rapidly spread like fire all over his body until the teenager could barely feel the bugs crawling over his limbs. It was hardly a second later when black dots made their way into the back of his eyelids, clouding his senses and filling his head with a promise of rest.

The last thing Loki remembered was a shadow falling over his face and a faint sound of something saying, "Prince Loki-?"


End file.
